A Season For Love
by She'sAShipper
Summary: It's 2029! Harm and Mac's 29th Christmas together. Join us as we take you into the family Rabb for the holidays. Another AU! Not related to other fics. Epilouge! Updated December 30! RR.
1. Chapter 1

Home of Harmon and Sarah Rabb

Dahlgren, Virginia

November 21, 2029

0037 ZULU

It was the night before Thanksgiving and Harm and Mac sat in their old farmhouse in rural Virginia. They'd moved south from the DC area when they had married choosing to raise their children in the country. Several years later, Mac retired. She worked as a legal aid attorney helping abused women and children while Harm who'd stayed in JAG four years longer than she did taught law courses at a local college. They had both retired for health reasons.

The couple had married in May of 2000 after Mac had spoken up in Australia and Harm had seized the opportunity at happiness. Ten months later, their twins, Mark and Nicole were born. Mark was a lawyer like his father at a firm in Washington and was married to a sweet girl named Jenna. They couple had two twin sons, James and John. Nicole was a financial adviser and married her high school sweetheart Philip Connelly right out of school. Harm wasn't thrilled his daughter was marrying so young, but Philip turned out to be just the sort of husband she needed to make it in a field that was still, a more than a quarter way into the 21st Century a man's game.

Their third child, another son, Shelby just finished up college and was going to be attending graduate school at Oxford with a focus in psychology. He wouldn't be joining the family that year for the Thanksgiving holiday and that upset Harm and Mac, but their pride won out.

Finally, there was Christopher, their baby boy and their rebel. While none of the children followed in their parents' footsteps and joined JAG or even the Navy or Marine Corps, no one expected a Rabb child to blow off college and join the Peace Corps, but he did. He'd just returned to the states and informed his parents he'd be volunteering at a homeless shelter the entire day and would not be joining them for the holiday either.

Harm sighed and clicked off the handset with his youngest son as he relaxed in his reclining, massager chair. Mac met his eyes and smiled softly. The years had done nothing to diminish her beauty, she'd filled out a bit, and had soft smile lines around her eyes as did Harm, but neither had lost their appeal with time, though no one would know it to talk to them.

"What is it Honey?" Mac asked at his troubled expression.

"Oh, nothing," he answered, looking a bit startled. "Nothing."

"Which one was that?" she asked not being near the ID window to see as she worked on their cornbread stuffing.

"Chris," he replied. "He's not coming either."

"Well Nikki and Philip will still be here," she soothed. "And Mark and Jenna and the boys."

"I know," he sighed. "Whatever happened to our whole family being together for the holidays?"

"You can't fault Shelby, Honey," Mac smiled. "He can't give up Oxford to come home for Thanksgiving and Thanksgiving isn't a holiday in England."

"Yeah," said Harm. "But I can still miss having everyone here, together, like we used to have. Just doesn't seem right."

"I know, Babe," she smiled. "Next year." This as the phone rang again.

Harm lifted the handset from the table, looked at it, and smiled. "Hello, son," he said as he answered.

"Hey, Dad," Mark greeted. "How you feeling?"

"Not too bad," replied Harm. "I'd be better if this stupid hand would cooperate, but you know how that goes." Harm had been diagnosed with late onset Multiple Sclerosis 6 years prior, and was in the middle of a relapse in which his left hand was mostly numb and useless.

"Did you take the pills?" Mark asked. He worried about his Dad's situation. It always seemed to affect something different and he feared one day it wouldn't just disappear as it always had as his father aged, couple that with his mother's osteoarthritis in her knees, Mark worried in Rabb fashion about their ability to be on their own. Still, even with those things, they two managed quite nicely.

"Yeah, but they didn't do much this time," said Harm. "I've learned to live with it, I guess."

"You don't sound sure," Mark sighed. "In fact you sound down."

"I am," he sighed. "Chris and Shelby aren't coming home for Thanksgiving."

Mark didn't know what to say to that. He'd called to tell his father that he and his family wouldn't be coming. "Dad, uh, actually that's why I called," he said softly. "Jimmy and Johnny have ear infections."

Harm felt like someone had let all the air out of his balloon. "Oh. Well, that's okay; kids get sick, you know?"

"I'm sorry, Dad. I really am," Mark said. "This is their third one this Fall. Jenna is worrying herself sick over it."

"Tell her not to worry too much," Harm said. "You and Chris had one ear infection after the other at their age. You both outgrew them."

"I'll tell her Dad," Mark replied. "We'll come and see you soon okay? You keep working on the hand. Happy Thanksgiving."

"Happy Thanksgiving to you too, Son," said Harm as he ended the call.

"The boys sick?" Mac asked having overheard.

"Ear infections," sighed Harm as he slouched back in his chair.

Mac walked over to him and sat on his lap leaning in to give him a soft gentle kiss, "I wish you weren't so sad."

"Me too," he said. "I'll be okay though, I will."

"Want to help me with the vegetables?" she asked. She sometimes forgot his MS was in relapse. It had been his leg the time before and that had been a lot more bothersome, to her at least.

He looked at her with a pained expression and held his left hand up.

Mac took his hand and pulled it up for a kiss, "I wish this made it better, Sweetheart."

He pulled her in closer and kissed her lips. "I wish it did, too."

Mac leaned into his kiss and enjoyed the feel of his familiar caresses. Twenty six years of marriage had done nothing to diminish their love or passion for one another. They were mid kiss when their phone rang again, this time Mac answered it. "Hello."

"Hey, Mom," said Nikki. "Happy Thanksgiving!"

"Hi, Sweetie," Mac greeted and slid off Harm's lap to go to the kitchen. "How are you?"

"I'm good, I'm good," she said. "How's Dad? Is he feeling better?"

"Not really," Mac replied. "He still can't do much of anything with his hand and none of your brothers are coming tomorrow so that has him a bit down."

"Oh boy," said Nikki.

"Yeah," Mac sighed. "He knew Shelby wouldn't come, but Chris called and cancelled, then Mark...and...Nikki, please...please tell me you're still coming."

"Sorry, Mom," she said sheepishly. "We ended up having to go to Phil's folks at the last minute. One of his sisters is there visiting and we haven't seen her in 3 years. I'm really sorry."

"Nikki," Mac sighed. "You're going to have to tell Daddy."

"I know," she said sadly. "Put him on."

"Harm, its Nikki," Mac told him and handed him the phone.

"Hey, Nik," he said. "What's up?"

"Not too much, how are you feeling?" she asked. She knew from her mother, but she wanted to show her deep concern.

"Ah, same old story," he said. "Waiting for my hand to get back to normal. How's Phil? What time are you leaving to come this way?"

"Um, Dad, actually that's why I was calling," Nikki said hesitantly.

"Not you too?" he sighed.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," she sighed. "Its just Lizzie is in town and we haven't seen her in three years. But..."

"It's okay, really," he said. "I understand. It's no big deal."

"Okay," Nikki said. "We'll see you soon okay? I hope you feel better soon."

"Thanks, sweetie," he said. "See you soon. Bye."

He rose from his chair and went to find Mac in the kitchen. "You can cut that recipe in half," he said. "And then in half again."

"I all ready did," Mac sighed. "You okay?"

He nodded. "Not much I can do about it. We'll just have a nice, quiet day here, you and me."

"Okay," Mac smiled. "Now convince me."

He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. "I'm okay," he whispered. "Just a little sad."

Mac snuggled into his touch, "I love you."

He gently kissed the top of her head. "I love you, too."

"You sure you don't want to help?" Mac asked. "You can..."

He shook his head. "I'm not really in the mood for doing things one handed, sweetie. Thank you, though."

"Is it any better at all?" Mac asked. "This one lasted a long time."

"Better than it was," he said, reaching with great concentration for an empty cup on the counter. "But still not great," he added as the cup slid from his grasp and bounced off the floor.

"We can try the treatments," Mac offered again. She knew this upset his and depressed him.

"How about we not think too much about it for now," he said. "And concentrate on making the day nice?"

Mac nodded, "You know what makes the best days for us?" she asked, moving closer.

"You and me," she leaned and kissed his lips. "In bed...all morning..." Another kiss. "And me in that black..."Another little kiss. "Silk nightgown."

He raised his eyebrow and smiled. "Won't the dinner burn?"

"I'll put the oven on low," Mac told him. "Slow roast."

His smile grew wider. "You do that."

"The stuffing is nearly ready. I'll clean up down here. You head up to bed. You'll need your strength for tomorrow."

"Don't be too long," he said, giving her one last kiss before heading upstairs.

Mac cleaned up in the kitchen then slowly climbed the steps to their bedroom. It was the same house they'd bought the year the twins were born. They'd celebrated their first holiday, a Thanksgiving in this house. The steps now for Harm at age 66 and herself at age 62 were sometimes a challenge. Her knees had gone over the years and now ached terribly some days, while Harm's back and hips gave him issues in addition to the MS. Overall though, they both remained in fairly good health for their ages.

Mac finished loading the dishwasher and set it on pots and pans mode before making the long climb to the master bedroom and her husband's arms.

Home of Phillip and Nicole Connelly

Culpeper, VA

November 21, 2029

0146 ZULU

In a master bedroom across town, Nicole Rabb Connelly lay in her bed sad and quiet.

"Honey, what's wrong?" asked Phil as he carried in a basket of clean laundry and set it on the bed.

Nikki sighed, "It's my Dad," she told him and continued to look at the picture of her parents taken on their 25th anniversary.

"Oh," said Phil, taking to the task of folding socks. "Did you call him today, is that why you're sad?"

"Yeah," she replied. "He tried to sound fine with it but he's not. It wouldn't be so bad but no one else is going to be there either and he's still..." She sighed again. She got quiet when sad, just like her father.

"His hand still messed up?" Phil asked.

"Yes, and from what my Mom said there hasn't even been any improvement with the medication this time," she told him. "And now none of us are going to be with him tomorrow."

Sitting down beside her, Phil wrapped his arms around Nikki and pulled her near. "It'll be okay. He's got your Mom, they'll have a nice day."

"There's no way?" she asked with wide Rabb eyes and she nuzzled closer to her husband.

He sighed. "I don't think there is, Honey. We haven't seen my sister in so long, you know? Everyone is expecting us there."

"Can I call my Mom in the morning and see how he is?" she asked. "If it's a bad day maybe I can go home and you can go to your folks?"

After pausing for just a moment, he nodded and smiled. "Sure."

"Are we going to say anything about...?" she began.

"I don't think we should," he replied. "Can we talk about it later tonight?"

Nikki nodded, "Sure. I love you," she told him smiling. "I'll pray Dad will be okay with this and we can spend the holiday together."

He planted a sweet little kiss on her lips. "Me, too."

Home of Mark and Jenna Rabb

Baltimore, MD

November 21, 2029

0147 ZULU

A few hours north and one hour east a similar conversation was taking place in the home of Mark and Jenna Rabb. "Jenna, for Heavens' sake get him to calm down!" Mark snapped at his wife. He showed his sadness like his mother, in some sort of disguise.

"I'm trying," she said.

"Not hard enough!" he told her as he locked their cat in the TV room for the night.

"Mark, please," she said. "I know you're upset about having to stay here, but we might as well make the most of it."

"I'm not upset about staying here," he replied. Now that she'd seen through him, he sat down and let his mask fall.

She sat down beside him and placed a hand on his knee. "It's okay to be upset. I really wanted to go to your parent's house, too, but it just didn't work this time."

"I'm not upset about not going, really I'm not. I'm upset that my Dad is upset," Mark confided and took his cranky son into his lap.

Jenna smiled just a bit. "You hate it when anyone you love is hurting. You always have."

"Its just only Nikki is going and Dad is really into the holidays. He likes big family gatherings and with his health..." Mark sighed and began to sway his baby son who was rapidly falling asleep against his chest.

"What he has isn't terminal, sweetie," Jenna gently reminded. "I know, he does love it when everyone is together, but he knows kids get sick. Heaven knows you did when you were the boys' age."

"I know, but I can't help but think emotion or stress has something to do with it," Mark told his wife. "Still Dad would fry my six if I went and left you with two sick babies."

She nodded. "He would indeed. He'll be okay; he and your Mom will have a quiet little holiday tomorrow, just the two of them."

Mark laughed and slipped an arm around Jenna, "You think when these two are sleeping we can try that?" he asked and raised his eyebrow.

She got a sparkle in her eyes. "I think it can be arranged."

Mark leaned in and took his wife's lips in a soft sweet kiss, "Go on to bed, I'll put Johnny down and join you in a little bit."

She smiled sweetly at the man she loved. "Don't be too long, okay?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he replied and took their sleeping son to his bed.

Harm was upstairs working on removing his shirt when Mac came in. He's undone the bed, which cost him effort with one functional hand and was now working on getting himself to bed. Mac stood back and watched him, thinking about the first time she'd seen him do this; disrobe in their very own master bedroom suite.

Home of Commander and Mrs. Harmon Rabb

Dalhgren, Virginia

November 21, 2001

0222 ZULU

Harm was undoing his shirt when Mac entered their room after putting Mark and Nikki down for the night. She was tired and a bit sore, they were hard nursers, but the sight of her husband, steely chest bathed in moonlight "Yum," Mac sighed as she walked in.

He looked over at her. "Hey, baby. Get them to go down finally?"

"Nikki went right down," Mac replied. "But Mark...he's just like his Mama, I'm afraid."

"Tough one to get to sleep?" asked Harm as he turned down the covers.

"Yes," she replied. "He drops off and then he'll jolt and wake up and stare at me. We had a talk about that he and I."

Harm smiled. "Did it do any good?"

"I think so he's asleep for now," Mac replied and moved closer to him sliding her hands along his sides.

He raised his eyebrow. "Oh, he is, huh?"

"Mmhmm," she replied. "We can't...just yet but we can cuddle and hold each other, can't we?"

"All night long," he answered tenderly.

Mac leaned against his chest and ran her cheek against its smooth skin, "I love you."

"I love you, too, baby," he said, his arms warmly around her back. "From this year on, we'll always be together for the holidays. All of us, right here in this house...someday our grandchildren, too. Always."

"Always, I promise," Mac replied and leaned up for a kiss.

Home of Captain and Mrs. Harmon Rabb

Dahlgren, VA

November 21, 2029

0203 ZULU

"Here," Mac said gently. "Let me do that."

"No, I got it," he said, determined to get the buttons undone without any help. "Thank you, though."

Mac continued to advance on him though and put her hands over his, "Harm, stop. Look at me."

He did as she asked. "What?"

"Why do you think I want to undo this shirt?" she asked. She knew why but she had to hear him say it anyway.

"Because you hate seeing me fumble with it," he said softly.

She shook her head, "No, although I do hate to see it, that's not the reason. I was just thinking back to a night before Thanksgiving many years ago when I undid a shirt just like this one. Do you remember?"

He thought for just a moment before a soft smile came over his face. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

"Oh, yeah?" Mac asked. "What did we do that night? You're old Sailor. That memory has to be going by now."

"On the contrary, my love," he answered. "We held one another and cuddled half the night...well, until the babies woke up anyway. It was so long ago, but still it somehow seems like yesterday to me."

"Me too," Mac replied and pulled back from him. "Go on get in bed."

With another soft smile, he climbed beneath the covers.

Mac adjusted the heat and changed her clothes then slid in beside him snuggling close, "I'm sorry the children aren't coming. I promised we'd always have the holidays together and now we won't."

"It's not your fault, sweetie," he said. "Things happen; life happens. We'll still have a nice day tomorrow."

Mac nodded, "We will, but you know what will make it even better?" she asked, running her foot along the outside of his calf.

"Tell me," he said softly.

"If we start our morning long love making session," she whispered. "Tonight."

"That will most definitely make the day better," he said, his voice soft and sweet.

Mac leaned over and began to kiss his lips, she knew exactly how he liked it, soft at first, slowly increasing the pressure. She knew never to slip her tongue into his mouth first, that he had to deepen the kiss.

And deepen it he did. He pressed his lips against hers, exactly the way he'd always done. He couldn't remember a time when kissing her didn't make him weak in the knees.

"Mm," Mac moaned in the back of her throat before she moved her lips to his jaw line. While he'd aged gracefully, there were still spots that had drooped or wrinkled, those spots intrigued her with their softness. She rubbed her lips against one while exposing her neck to his questing mouth.

He loved her neck, every inch of it. The first time he'd ever kissed her there, it gave him goose bumps, and now all these years later, it did the very same. He began placing angel soft kisses on the spot between her ear and her shoulder, something she'd long ago confessed drove her wild.

"I love that Harm," Mac whispered. "I always have. More," she requested.

"As you wish, my love," he whispered in return as he continued kissing her oh-so-softly, moving down her shoulder and back up again.

"Hold me," she whispered pushing her chest against his letting the skin peaking out of her nightshirt brush his hairy chest.

He wrapped his arms around her as best he could, the left one not fully cooperating and requiring a little help from the right. He brought her as close as he could, kissing her forehead as he did so. "You're so beautiful."

Mac shook her head, "I have wrinkles," Mac replied.

"They don't diminish your beauty, baby," he said gently. "Not in my eyes."

Mac began to stroke his left arm, "And nothing diminishes your strength in mine."

He sighed. "I hate that this had to happen to me; to us." His diagnosis had come as a shock, and he spent some time wondering why it had to come and disrupt their "golden years" like it had. She never let him be down for too long, though. That was just one of the many things he loved so very much about her.

"Could be worse," Mac reminded him. "Could be progressive."

"Yes, it could," he agreed. "Guess even in being unlucky, I'm lucky, huh?"

Mac nodded, "Now the arthritis in my knees, that is progressive," she sighed.

"Bothering you tonight?" he asked.

"On my feet a lot tonight," she replied.

He kissed the top of her head. "You out do yourself every year."

"Well you get to do Christmas," she reminded him. "One big meal a year is enough for me."

He laughed tenderly. "Christmas is all mine, I promise. The turkey, the ham, all the trimmings, all mine. You can play with the kiddos."

"I like playing with the kids," she replied. "But I like playing with their grandpa ever more." She said nuzzling his neck. "Where were we?"

"Mmm..." he answered, leaning into her touch. "Right about here." He rolled towards her and began kissing her lips very sweetly, very softly.

Mac returned his soft kisses and slowly began to run her hands up and down his back. He was still strong, still had well defined muscles even at his age. She loved the feel of his skin against hers under her hands and as she caressed him, she tipped her head back and moaned lightly.

He smiled. "You like my muscles, huh?" he softly asked. She'd often told him how strong she thought he was, from the day they first began their relationship. Though he now felt weaker in his own eyes, he knew he hadn't lost an ounce of strength in hers.

Mac ran her hand down his left arms and poked at his wrist, "Not this one. That's a bad muscle," she teased gently and lightly smacked at it. "But this one..." She reached her other hand between their bodies and felt his masculinity hard and firm. Slowly she began a soft massage.

He drew in a sharp breath. "That's nice..."

"You like that?" she asked. "Do you like this?" she moved her upper body against his chest. "I know you do. I want you to touch me. You know how."

He did indeed. He began a slow, loving massage of her back, starting at the small and working his way towards her shoulders. He learned long ago that back rubs were often a man's best friend.

Mac whimpered lightly as his hand skimmed a part on her back that was sore from standing, just between the shoulder blades.

"Did that hurt, baby?" he asked remorsefully.

"No," she replied. "But it does hurt there. Can you do it a bit more?"

"Okay," he whispered, increasing the pressure of his work.

Mac felt the strong pressure of his right hand on the stiff muscles, "Oh yeah," she moaned. "Oh...you know if the Admiral hadn't interrupted us all those years ago when you were hiding out in my apartment, you'd have gotten lucky then and there." She'd never in all their years together told him that before.

"Remind me to send him a very strongly worded letter," joked Harm, his hands still caressing her aching back.

"Kiss please," she requested. "This is amazing. The pain is just going away. It's a shame you can't do this to my knees."

"We'd never get out of that position," he laughed. "But I wish I could do this anyplace you need it."

"Can we make love now?" she asked beginning to roll over beneath him.

He found himself face-to-face with her, and captured by her undying beauty. "You...you amaze me, Mac," he whispered, cupping her face with his hand. "All these years, and you still amaze me."

"And you me," she replied. "I love you so much. I don't know..." She stopped and her voice caught.

He teared up himself at the sound of her emotion. He often thought of how different his life would be without her in it, thoughts that he almost couldn't bear. "Me either," he said softly. "I don't know what I'd do without you in my life. You're my whole world."

"I don't know how Varese manages," she said and stroked Harm's face. "Can you promise me something?"

He nodded. "Anything."

"Promise me you...you won't leave me, promise," she asked, brown eyes wide and wet. She'd been thinking about their mortality lately since Sturgis died three months ago.

He gave her a long kiss. "With everything in me, I promise."

Slowly Mac moved her legs and bent her knees opening to invite in into her body. "I love you so much," she whispered and leaned up to kiss him softly, once, twice, three times, little tiny kisses. He loved that. "Touch me, you know how," she said again, this time lifting her hips ever so slightly off their bed.

Softly, he slid one hand down her body, leaving feather-light touches as he moved towards the place she wanted him to be. "Better?" He asked gently.

Mac moaned, "Oh..yes..." And lifted herself against his hand. "Touch...more..." she gasped and writhed beneath him in ecstasy.

"I love you," Harm whispered. "I love you." He always told her that just before he took her body. He never wanted to take her in anger, in pain, only in love, pure and unconditional, and he'd always had. From the first moment he'd made her his in their room in Sydney, until this day so many years later, he'd always touched her in nothing but love.

"I know," she whispered as she felt his hardness replaced his right hand between her legs. Slowly he moved into her, filling her and stretching her still. They moved back and forth, up and down, matching each other in a rhythm perfected with time until Harm collapsed breathless onto Mac's now chest.

"You doin' okay?" he asked softly.

Mac nodded, "Yes," she replied. "Oh yes. How are you? Any aches and pains there Sailor? You've got some years on me, you know," she smiled and playfully slapped his bottom.

"Hey now!" he replied jovially. "I'm still in tip-top shape, thank you very much."

"Says the man who slept on the couch all last week when your hip acted up," she teased.

"Well..." he admitted."So I have a few rusty parts. You still love me."

Mac nodded, "I do. So much. Can you roll off me ,Sweetie?"

"Okay, yeah," he whispered and slowly rolled off to her left side.

Mac snuggled against his chest gently playing with the hair there, "Are you really okay with the kids now coming?"

"No," he admitted. "But I don't have much control over it, so I'm trying not to be sad."

Mac continued to stroke his chest, "It's okay to be sad Darling. I promised you we'd always be together and we won't be tomorrow. It is definitely all right to be sad."

"Yeah, but I'd rather think about everything we have to be happy about," he said.

"What's that?" she asked and placed a kiss on his chest near his nipple.

"Well," he began. "We have each other, we have better health than we might, we have a wonderful family, great friends..."

"But?" Mac asked.

He sighed. "I'll miss having everyone here tomorrow, sure. But I'll love being with you. We haven't had a holiday alone in...gosh, how many years?"

"Twenty eight," Mac replied. "A very long time. Remember our first Christmas? Remember the gift I gave you?"

He wrinkled his brow and pondered her question. "No," he said after a few moments. "I sure don't."

"I want a divorce," Mac sighed, and rolled away.

"Aw, baby," he said. "I'm sorry I don't remember. Would you please refresh my aged memory, my love?"

"It was the Christmas after we got married..."

Home of Commander and Mrs. Harmon Rabb

Dahlgren, VA

December 25, 2000

1221 ZULU

"Merry Christmas, Harm," Mac whispered as they sat in front of a fire under their first Christmas tree early on Christmas morning.

"And to you, too" he smiled, leaning over to give her a kiss. "I can't believe it, our first Christmas as husband and wife."

Mac reached down and touched her belly, "And this time next year we'll be parents."

His smiled increased tenfold. "I can't wait."

Mac reached under the tree and gave him a small box, "Open it."

He took the tiny box from her hands and looked at her quizzically. "Okay..."

"Go on," Mac urged. "Open it up."

Smile still on his face, he untied the thin red ribbon and lifted the lid from the box. Inside was a tiny black and white photo. He studied it for a moment before looking back to her. "What am I missing? We've had these done before, haven't we?"

"Yeah," Mac nodded. "But look." She took the picture and outlines, "Here's a head, he's a leg...And that what does that look like?" She pointed to what seemed to be another head.

His eyes grew wide as saucers. "No way."

"That's another head," Mac told him. "And this..." She pointed to a little white blob on the screen. "This is another heart beat. We're going to have twins."

He dropped the picture onto the floor and stared at the tree for what felt like forever before turning to Mac again. "Really?"

Mac nodded, "Really. Is it okay?" Mac asked.

He took her face in his hands and pulled her close into a passionate kiss. "Oh yeah," he said. "It's more than okay!"

They'd kissed and touched and finally made love beneath their tree, both basking in the glow of the lives they'd created.

Home of Captain and Mrs. Harmon Rabb

Dahlgren, VA

November 21, 2029

0311 ZULU

"I can't believe you didn't remember that?"

He shrugged. "Me either! Must be all the jet fumes, you know?" He smiled and winked at her.

"Or old age," she teased.

He could only laugh. She may have been onto something.

"You tired?" she asked. She was dozing rapidly.

"Kind of yeah," he answered through a yawn. "My body may still be chisled as ever, but my stamina has waned a bit."

"How's your hand feeling?" she asked several times each day, hoping his answer would change.

"Same," he replied. "But at least it's not any worse."

"I remember Easter," Mac sighed.

"Yeah" he sighed. "That wasn't pretty. It sucked when my leg kept going out from under me."

"Right, and the Valentine's Day before that," Mac reminded him.

"Oh yeah, it was so bad only being able to use one arm and one hand," he sighed.

"So you see," she said softly. "This one isn't so bad. It's just lasting a really long time that's all."

"Right" he agreed. "It's not great, but it could always be worse. I'm just glad I have you to love me through it all."

"I'm gonna love you no matter what you know that," she told him. "Even when...if this gets worse. Even when we're both in a nursing home, and can't remember where we put our teeth, I'm gonna love you."

"And I'll always love you," he said, bringing her face closer to his for a soft, sweet kiss.


	2. Chapter 2

Home of Captain and Mrs. Harmon Rabb

Dahlgren, VA

November 22, 2029

1411 ZULU

They awoke the next morning to a romantic chill in the air as a fresh layer of snow fell outside. Mac snuggled into her husband and felt his arm tighten around her. After drifting back to sleep for a bit, she got up, fixed a little breakfast and started in on what few parts of their holiday meal remained to be prepared.

"That smells amazing," he said as he entered the kitchen and smelled the aroma of pumpkin custard in the oven. "I pulled the ornament boxes out."

"What for?" Mac asked as she set his breakfast on the table.

"So we can trim the tree after you get things settled in here," he said, pulling his chair out.

"You feel up to that?" Mac asked.

He nodded. "Yeah, I feel really good actually. The hand is still nagging me, but other than that, I'm doing good. We may have a few rough spots, but we're not old geezers Mac."

She smiled and laughed, "No, though sometimes we feel like we are. All right then," Mac replied. "We don't usually trim the tree on Thanksgiving, but if you want to we can."

He took a bite of his bagel. "I thought it'd be nice to try something different; might be fun. I hope so anyway."

"Sure," Mac replied and sat down heavily in her chair. "Don't tell me you plan to shovel that snow outside."

"Nah," he said, taking a sip of his juice. "I'll call Randy, have him bring the blower over and do it. You remember when I used to shovel that entire driveway?"

"Oh, yes," Mac replied. "Remember the one and only year I tried to help you?"

He smiled. "I sure do..."

Home of Commander and Mrs. Harmon Rabb

Dahlgren, VA

March 18, 2001

1458 ZULU

"I can do this myself, sweetie," he said. "Go back inside and thaw out."

"No, this driveway is huge and I'm going to help you," Mac insisted.

He shook his head and smiled just a little. She was all Marine, and there was no stopping her when she put her mind to something. "Okay, but be careful. Snow is heavy."

"I'm a Marine, Harm," Mac retorted. "I can shovel a little snow."

"You're a Marine who needs to not overdo things," he countered as he tossed a shovelful of snow into the yard.

The worked on their separate patches for an hour or more, when all of a sudden Mac stopped and leaned heavily against her shovel.

"What's wrong?" he asked, immediately by her side.

"Nothing," she panted. "I just need..." She paused and breathed deeply.

"You need to go inside and rest," he said, placing a gentle hand against her back. "Please?"

Mac shook her head but did not reply in words.

"I'm worried about you, Mac," he said more insistently.

She took another deep breath, "Go get the truck."

With a short nod and wide eyes, he ran towards the garage as he fished his keys from his pocket. He backed out slowly, threw it into park and got out to help her climb inside.

"These babies are coming right now," Mac panted. "I'm sorry, Harm. I'm sorry."

"Right now?" he asked. "It's a month early! Are you sure?"

"My water broke," Mac cried. "I'm sorry, I should have...Ow:

"It's okay, it's okay," he soothed. "We're going right now, its okay."

Mary Washington Hospital

Fredericksburg, VA

March 18, 2001

1853 ZULU

Mac cried and apologized all the way to the hospital and into her labor room. Harm was made to wait outside while the nurses examined Mac then he was allowed back with her. "Almost Harm," she panted as she breathed through a contraction.

"Okay, you can do it, sweetie," he said.

And she did it. Three hours and fifty five minutes later their baby boy, Mark came into the world screaming loudly. "It's a boy," the doctor announced to Harm as he handed him the newborn.

"Oh, wow," was all he could think to say as he looked into the eyes of his little boy.

"Good job there," the nurse praised. "Here's baby number two. Dad, Mom needs your help there."

Passing the tiny boy off to another of the nurses, he once again took Mac's hand and held it tight. "Okay, sweetie, almost finished, come on..."

Twenty minutes, and eleven pushes later, the doctor announced, "A girl, Mr. and Mrs. Rabb. A healthy baby girl. She's little, but she looks wonderful."

Home of Captain and Mrs. Harmon Rabb

Dahlgren, VA

November 22, 20209

1448 ZULU

"You haven't touched a snow shovel since," he said.

He chuckled. "I learned my lesson, what can I say?"

He looked down at himself and brushed away the crumbs from his pajamas. "Okay, I'll shower and then we'll see what we can make happen with that tree, okay?"

"Okay, you want candle and angel lights or colored lights," Mac asked. "I'll start on that."

"Let's do the candle and angel ones," he answered. "We haven't used them in a couple years."

Mac got started on the lights while Harm showered. She did a layer of white smaller lights, then began stringing the angel lights across the top of the tree, then the candle lights to every third branch for the remainder of their 7 ft blue spruce.

"Oh, wow," he said as he came downstairs and caught a glimpse of her handiwork. "That looks amazing, Mac."

"Thanks," she replied. "I'd like to hide some more of these wires, but with the clips like they are I can't get it right," she sighed and stood back hands on her hips.

"Want me to try?" he asked, looking at the tree to see what he could do.

Mac hesitated, doubting he's have the motor function to be able to do anything with the tiny clips on the ends of the light, "If you want," she replied softly.

He took hold of one of the offending wires and reached for the clip with his left hand. He maintained a soft grasp on it, but without the feeling in the tips of his fingers, he let it slip as he worked. With a little shake of his head, he gave it another try.

"Harm, let me do it," Mac said moving in to handle the wire after seeing his hand slip.

"No, it's okay," he said. "I think I can get it." He tried a few more times, but each time the wire would slip from his hands, causing him a little more frustration than the time before.

"Harm," Mac said with a bit more frustration in her tone than she meant to have. "Let me do it, you..."

"I can do it, Mac!" he insisted as the wire slipped from his hands for the fifth time. "Damn it!" he muttered under his breath.

He flopped down into his chair and looked up at the ceiling. Maybe this wouldn't be the best thing to do today after all.

Mac knew she'd crossed a line with him, when he'd first been diagnosed, six years ago, two days before Christmas he'd made her promise him...and she'd just broken it.

Home of Captain and Mrs. Harmon Rabb

Dahlgren, VA

December 22, 2023

1723 ZULU

The day started out as normal as any other in their married life. Mac made breakfast for Harm and he joined her after her shower. He'd been quiet for the past two days, but this morning he seemed brighter.

"Hey, beautiful," he said as he sat down to eat.

"Hey, Honey," Mac replied. "You seem in a better mood this morning."

"Do I?" he asked with a smile. "Guess I am!"

Mac smiled, "So...did you get my Christmas present yet?" Mac asked. "Three more days."

He picked up his fork and took a bite of his scrambled eggs. "Maybe," he said. "But you'll find out in 3 days." He reached the fork down for another bits, and it dropped from his hand, landing on the plate.

"Loud eating there, Sailor," Mac teased buttering her toast.

"Oh, uh, yeah," he said, half-smiling as he picked up his fork and gripped it with extra concentration. He didn't want her to worry about him. He was plenty worried about himself.

As it turned out though, by that evening there was no hiding it. Mac was relaxing on the sofa, her left knee had been bothering her so when the dryer buzzed Harm jumped to run down and get the laundry up.

He returned a few moments later with a heaping basketful of clothes. He managed fine until seconds before he went to set the basket on the coffee table. The right side slipped fro his grasp, sending the laundry all over the floor and leaving the basket swinging from his left hand.

"Harm?" Mac asked. "What on earth? That is the sixth thing today you've dropped like that."

"I didn't know you were keeping count!" he said harshly.

"I'm not, but...Harm are you all right?" she asked studying his face, his stance, the harsh way he'd just spoken to her. "It's not like you to be so harsh."

He shook his head and sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm...I've been dropping everything for two days. I can't feel my right hand. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"What do you mean you can't feel it?" Mac asked, alarm registering in her voice.

"I mean I can't feel it," he said, holding it up. "It's numb; it's asleep. Can't feel it, can't really move it."

Mac put her hand in his, "Squeeze," she told him.

He did as she asked, or he tried to anyway. "I can't."

"Okay," Mac said calmly. "Get your coat. You need a doctor."

"Right this second?" he asked.

"Right now," Mac told him. "I don't like this, not one bit. Go on now."

As he went for his coat, a part of his was relieved that she finally knew something was wrong. The fear of specifics remained, but at least he didn't need to hide it any longer.

Mary Washington Hospital

Fredericksburg, VA

December 23, 2023

0121 ZULU

It took hours in the ER as they ruled out injury, stroke, and any number of other diseases until finally the doctor came and gave them news. "Mr. Rabb, I'm Dr. Kearney a neurologist. How are you feeling?"

"I've been better," answered Harm.

"Well, you might be happy to know we've found the problem," he said as he said down. "But you won't be happy when I tell you what it is."

"Okay," he said apprehensively, taking a deep breath. "Tell me."

"It appears, Mr. Rabb, what is causing your numbness is a form of multiple sclerosis," the doctor replied.

He sat dumbfounded. Of all the things he'd wondered about, that wasn't among them.

They sat, Harm and Mac hand in hand as the doctor outline the type he suspected, various treatments, and repeated over and over again there was no cure. Finally, he left the couple alone. "Harm," Mac said softly her voice choked.

"It's okay, Mac," he said. "I need you to promise me something."

Mac sniffled and nodded her head, wet brown eyes looking at steady blue ones.

"I need you to promise me," he began. "That you won't treat me like I'm sick; like there's anything wrong with me. Can you do that?"

"But Harm you can't...You are sick. I need to take care of you," she protested.

"No, no," he said gently. "I don't want you to look at it like that. Look at it as a little challenge that we need to deal with together. Okay?"

"Okay," she replied. "I promise to never treat you like you are sick. You're not sick, just a bit...You're perfect. Perfect in my eyes." With that she leaned in for a kiss. The road was long, and maybe hard, but they would, as one unit, travel it together.

Home of Captain and Mrs. Harmon Rabb

Dahlgren, VA

November 22, 2029

1503 ZULU

"Guess I'm not perfect after all, huh?" he asked.

"What?" Mac asked him moving to sit on a still sealed box in front of his chair.

"I'm able to do less and less each time this happens," he said, looking down at his hand.

Mac reached out for it and held it firmly, "I know. And that's why it is harder for me to stay on the sidelines and pretend its not there. It is there and you have to acknowledge it. Pretending you don't have it isn't going to make it go away."

"I know," he sighed. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I'm guess I'm more upset than I thought I be, you know? I go so long in-between flare-up's anymore, these things get me down."

Mac gave a little laugh, "Well would you be happier if they came more frequently?" she asked him knowing the answer but trying to read his thoughts.

He smiled just a bit. "No, I guess not. It's just easier to not think about when its not staring me in the face."

Mac nodded, "I know Honey. I do. It's not very easy for me to think about it either, you know. And I do."

"I know you do," he said. "Hard not to. I just can't help but wish it wasn't an issue, that's all."

Mac rose and moved to stand near him, indicating she wanted to sit in what was in her mind the best seat in the house, his lap. She waited for his permission.

"Have a seat, baby," he said with a smile, patting his lap.

Mac sat down and leaned against his chest, "I know you wish it wasn't an issue, Honey, so do I. But it is an issue and I think after the holidays, we should sit down with the kids and just hammer out a game plan. You know how I feel about what ifs with no plan."

He wrapped his arms around her. "I really do. We'll do that; we'll talk with them all soon, okay?"

"Then, whatever happens," she told him playing with a piece of silver gray hair. "We'll know exactly what to do. Now do you want to finish this tree?"

He kissed her tenderly. "I'd love to."

"Would you like to try to get the clips to cooperate?" she asked wanting him to have the power there.

"If you hold it for me," he said. "I think I can get it to go where I need it to."

"That's what we're all about," Mac smiled. "Team work." Mac held the light clips and Harm did, quite expertly then get the wires to sit back farther on the branches. When they were finished they both stood back glad the first leg was finished.

"Mmm, I smell pumpkin pie," he said, noticing the comforting scent coming from the kitchen. "Smells almost done, huh?"

"It should be," Mac replied. "Why don't' you pull out all the ornaments you want up and I'll set it to cool."

"Will do," he said, going to open the ornament box on the floor. He moved the newspaper and bubble wrap and began unearthing the ornaments one at a time.

"Hey," he called into the kitchen. "Come look at this."

Mac tossed her over mitt on the table and her towel over her shoulder and came beside him. "Oh wow, I haven't seen that in years."

"I know," he said, holding the glass bell with the silver ribbon in his hand. "I thought we'd lost it a few years ago, but here it is."

"Now I know I'm getting old because I do not remember the significance of that ornament, though I do recall you being very upset that we couldn't find it," Mac said and sat on the sofa near where Harm was kneeling.

He looked at her wide-eyed. "Mac, this is the first ornament we ever got. This was back before they made them all fancy like they do now, all that 'Our First Christmas Together' and all that jazz. This is our 'First' ornament. We picked it out at that little store-"

"Off of Route 5, now I remember. We were taking that southern plantation tour and you detoured off the road and got us lost..."

He laughed. "Yeah, that was the one. They had all kinds of little knick-knacks in there, even some really fancy ornaments, but for some reason, we both saw this one and it...it was the one."

"I think it's like us," Mac said. "A bit cloudy to look at but it still..." She shook the delicate bell so it made a pure clear tone, "Rings true."

His smile grew as he pulled her close for a hug. "I love you, you know that?"

Mac wrapped both arms around him, "I love you."

"How'd the pie come out?" he asked.

"Good, but way too hot so don't get any ideas," Mac warned. "What else do you have there?"

He reached into the box and pulled out a newspaper-wrapped bundle. "I dunno, see what's in there."

Mac carefully unwrapped the ornament to reveal a Winnie the Pooh dressed in a Santa suit hugging a snowflake. "Remember this?" she asked showing him.

"I do," he said. "It's from Nikki's 'Pooh phase. Gosh, everything that girl had, every outfit, every...everything was Pooh."

Mac laughed, "She's still in her Pooh phase Harm. When she has a baby, the nursery will be Pooh. I'll put money on it."

He reached for the Pooh ornament and held it up to look at it. "Yeah, I think you're right. Aren't there some more of these things around somewhere? I seem to remember a whole set."

"She took some with her when she got married, but you loved that one so she let you keep it," Mac reminded him. "Isn't' there a Tomcat in there somewhere?"

"Oh yeah," he said, digging through the box in search of it. "From Mark's model airplane phase. You remember what the ceiling of his room looked like for those few years? I couldn't go in there without knocking myself silly on one model or another."

"Mark wanted to be a pilot so badly," Mac sighed. "Still I think he's happy where he is. Do you think we should call and see how the boys are?"

"Yeah, that'd be nice," he said. "I'll see what else is hiding in our little treasure chest here."

"I though you'd want to call," Mac said. Harm was very protective of his little grandsons.

"If you bring me the phone, I will," he said, pulling out another airplane ornament, this one a Stealth fighter.

Mac walked to the phone and handed Harm the handset. "I'm going to baste the turkey."

Harm pressed the automatic dial button and after three rings, he heard his son's voice on the other end.

"Hello," said the deep yet tired voice.

"Hey, son," replied Harm, still pulling things from the box. "How're the little guys doing?"

"Hi Dad," Mark replied. "They're a bit better. Jenna's been up most of the night with one or the other of them, so it's my turn now. How are you and Mom?"

"We're good, we're good," he said. "She's working on the turkey right now, and I'm pulling ornaments out of boxes. We decided we'd put the tree up after we eat today."

"That's a little soon isn't it?" Mark asked.

"Not really," said Harm. "Besides, it'll be nice to see it up a bit longer, you know?"

"I guess so, Dad," Mark replied. "How are things otherwise?"

"They're okay," he said. "We're feeling pretty good, staying busy; it's good. Hey, I need to go to the basement and get some more boxes, so I'll let you go for now, I know you need some rest. Give the boys and Jenna hugs and kisses from me, okay?"

"Will do," Mark replied. "Want to say hi to Johnny. He's fussing for his juice. Johnny, its Grandpa."

Harm listened closely as the little boy mumbled something akin to "Hi, Grandpa," before Mark came back on the line.

"He's got his mother's gift of gab," Mark joked. "Okay, kiss Mom and I'll call you next week."

"Sounds good," said Harm. "Talk to you then."

After one more goodbye, Harm ended the call, sat the handset down and headed for the basement to find the rest of the ornament boxes. He wished the kids were there to help decorate, but he was determined that this was still going to be a fun, happy day.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks for reviewing. I'm working to update this piece everyday and Snugglebug and I are still aiming to finish it within thenext few days. However, our trek would be eased by some of those lovely little things, you guess it, reviews. ;) So hit the purple button and tell us what you think.

**Home of Captain and Mrs. Harmon Rabb  
Dahlgren, VA  
November 22,2029  
2045 ZULU**

Over the next few hours, Harm had hauled the remaining boxes upstairs and began to go through them, the task became more of a trip down memory lane than he ever imagined it would be. He found the ornaments the kids had made in school, the Popsicle sticks with globs of glue and glitter on them. There was the little Christmas tree that Nikki had done in first grade, made out of play dough and painted with tempera. The star had broken off, but it was still a precious treasure. He pulled out another ornament and unwrapped it, stopping cold in his tracks as he remembered where it'd come from...

**Home of Commander and Mrs. Harmon Rabb  
Dahlgren, VA  
November 25, 2001  
1714 ZULU**

Mac sat on the floor with Mark and Nikki in their playpen. She was showing them ornaments and they were smiling and laughing at them. "We have to get rid of some of these or we won't have room for any new ones," she explained to the twins. "That's why Mommy is going to weed out some of these things. What about this one?" She held up a small gold snowman, about 4 inches high and adorned with a faded red ribbon. The gold was bent a little around the edges and the ribbon was frayed, but overall it still had a special beauty about it.

Nikki laughed at the battered ornament, "Yeah, Mama thinks so too, this one goes."

"What goes?" asked Harm as he came in from the kitchen with two mugs of hot chocolate.

"Oh, I decided to get rid of some of the rattier ornaments that's all," Mac replied. "We need room for our own collection."

"Oh, okay," he said. "What've you purged so far?"

"So far, a few of these old pinecone ones I made in Kindergarten and this," she held up the snowman for him to see.

"No way!" he exclaimed and grabbed it from her hand.

"Harm, its old, the bow is frayed, it's sharp. One of the babies could get hurt." Mac immediately began making her case.

"It stays," he said, staring at the small decoration as it lay in his hand.

"Harm, its junk," Mac sighed. "If you hold on to every scrap from your childhood we won't be able to save anything from theirs." Nikki was beginning to fuss at the tension.

"My Dad sent me this," he said softly, eyes not leaving the ornament.

"Well just because..." Mac began before his words registered. Her face immediately softened, "Oh Sweetie."

He ran his fingers over the ribbon, and remembered the day in mid - December, so long ago, his mother handed him an envelope addressed just to him, from his father. He was only 5 years old, so getting his "own" mail was the best thing ever. He tore the top off the envelope and pulled out a small bundle of tissue paper. Removing it with a zeal possessed by all 6-year-old boys, he discovered the snowman ornament inside. His eyes lit up as he looked at it, how shiny it was. With his mother's help he put it on the top branch of the Christmas tree, just beneath the angel that sat on top. That Christmas Eve, his father went missing, and every year since then when Harm had looked at that snowman ornament, he'd remembered the Christmas of 1969 like it was yesterday.

Mac said nothing more to him, just opened her arms in silent invitation.

He went to her, much in need of a hug just then. "We have to keep it, Mac."

Mac smiled against his hair as her cheek rested there, "You have to let it go, Sweetheart."

He shook his head. "I can't," he said softly. "It's the last thing he gave me."

She rubbed his shoulders as she held him, "You have to."

"I can't," he said again as Nikki began to cry. "How come I have to? I don't understand."

"Because you..." she said pulling back.

"I what?" he asked, looking down at the babies in their playpen.

Mac rose and moved away from him.

He picked up his fussy daughter and put her against his shoulder. "Mac?"

Mac reached into the playpen and picked up Mark. "You have to give it up Harm. You have to."

"Why?" he asked again. "I just don't see why you keep saying that? It's the last thing my father gave me in this lifetime, Mac, the last thing! I'm not parting with it!""

"Yes you are! You have to!" Mac insisted.

"I don't have to!" he said, Nikki beginning to all-out cry. "Why are you so sure I have to, huh?"

"Because you have a son!" Mac replied. "You have a baby son now who...who deserves to have a piece of his grandfather for his own. You have memories, and stories, Mark doesn't even have that. You have to give it up...so...so it can be his, and one day his child's."

He stood frozen in place, staring at his little son, lying in Mac's arms. It all made sense now. She was right; he had to give it up. "Okay," he said softly. "I'll keep it and…when he grows up, he can have it. I promise."

Mac moved closer and leaned up for a kiss, "I'm sorry I hurt you, but you wouldn't stop talking long enough for me to explain."

"I do that sometimes," he admitted, putting an arm around her. "I love you, though, you and the kids. Never forget that."

"Never," Mac whispered and leaned into his embrace.

**Home of Captain and Mrs. Harmon Rabb  
Dahlgren, VA  
November 22, 2029  
2152 ZULU**

Mac entered the room and saw her husband lost in deep thought.

"Penny for them?" she asked sitting on his ottoman.

"Oh, hi sweetie," he said, looking up only for a moment. "I was just thinking about this old snowman. You remember it?"

"I do," Mac replied. "I also remember what we said you were going to do with it."

He nodded. "I'd love to do it this year, but..." His voice trailed off; he was missing his kids badly. "But..." he continued, "I... Do you think maybe they're staying away because of this?" He held up his left hand, the one that was giving him trouble.

"Not for one...Harm is that what you think?" Mac asked moving closer.

He shrugged. "I hope not, you know, but..."

"No, tell me," she said sympathetically.

He sighed and leaned against her. "Maybe it scares them to see me like this."

"It does," Mac replied. "It scares me but that isn't why they didn't come. They had other things to do. Shelby is at school, Chris is off being like Daddy, Mark is busy being a Daddy, and you know Phil is close to his sister. They wouldn't lie. In fact, Mark and I had a long talk about all this when it first happened, and usually he calls after each flare up and we talk about it."

"I know," he said. "I'm just really missing everyone right now."

"They'll be here for Christmas," Mac assured him. "They better be," she said to herself.

Harm managed a little smile. "That's right, they will. Hey, how's dinner coming along?"

"It's just about ready," Mac replied. "You have all the ornaments you want to put up after?"

"I think so, yeah," he said, looking down at the array he'd spread out across the coffee and end tables.

"Come then," Mac said reaching to hand him up. "Let's eat."

The couple sat down to a quiet dinner of turkey and dressing, sweet potatoes and mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce and rolls, the same thing Mac had always prepared for the holidays. Eating didn't take long, not a fraction as long as decorating the tree. They reminisced with each ornament they hung and smiled as the empty tree filled up and came to life as they added each piece. When it was complete, they stood back and held one another, admiring their work and all it represented.

**Home of Captain and Mrs. Harmon Rabb  
Dahlgren, VA  
November 23, 2029  
0214 ZULU**

"Well, I'm tired," Mac announced. "Let's get these cleaned up and maybe curl up with some cocoa and watch a DVD?"

"Okay, sure," he said. "Any one in particular?"

"Miracle on 34th Street?" Mac suggested trying to lift one of the bigger boxes.

"Hey, I've got it," he said, reaching for it.

"Harm, I can do it," she said. "You get the other one."

He knew it was futile to fight her, and he also knew he really couldn't manage the larger box anyway. He reached for the smaller one instead. "Okay, let's go."

In no time at all they had the boxes store and Mac went and dragged down a few of their comforters as Harm worked on a fire. She sat down, kicked off her shoes and rubbed her right knee.

"Oh, the joys of growing old, huh?" he asked her, sitting down beside her.

"My knees are the worst," she sighed and put her legs on his, a silent hint.

With a soft smile and a softer touch, Harm began massaging the aching joint. It pained him that she was in pain, but this was one little way he could help ease that a little.

"I should have these fixed," she sighed. "But then I wouldn't have an excuse for this," she whispered leaning back and enjoying his touch.

"Since when did you need an excuse?" he asked, winking at her the way he'd done so many times in their younger years.

"Since I got old and unattractive," Mac replied. "A bit more please."

He continued his work against her knee. "Mac, you're not old and you're certainly not unattractive. You're beautiful."

"I have wrinkles," she sighed. "And puffy knees and a round bottom."

"I'm getting older too, Mac," Harm tried to soothe.

Mac shook her head, "But women get "old". Men get "distinguished."

He laughed a bit. "Okay, am I 'distinguished' to you?"

"No, you're you and I love you. Bad hand, bad hip and all," she sighed. "That feels so good."

"Oh yeah?" he asked coyly as his hand made its way up her leg, just underneath the hem of her skirt. "How about that?"

"Even better," she sighed. "Do you feel up to making love?" she asked. They had done it the night before and sometimes with his MS he was badly fatigued.

"I do," he said, softly caressing her leg. "I always have, and I hope I always will."

"Sometimes you are so tired," she sighed in a breathy voice, enjoying his touch.

"Sometimes," he agreed in a low voice. "But some things have a way of making me forget about being tired."

"Let's relocate this a bit then," Mac replied. "Can you run up and get our pillows and stuff. I have an idea."

He smiled and rose from the couch. He loved the sound of that, "an idea".

Mac moved the blankets and some of the couch cushions to the floor making a makeshift bed near their tree. She opened her blouse a bit and removed her stockings, then snuggled beneath the covers as she awaited Harm.

He returned after a few moments carrying their pillows and one of their favorite CD's. "I thought this might be nice," he said softly as he placed the disc into the player and turned it on low.

"It is nice," Mac replied. "It is also cold in here and I'm all alone."

"Well we have to fix that, huh?" he asked as he placed the pillows next to the cozy space she'd made on the floor, kicked his shoes off and untucked his shirt before joining her beneath the blankets.

Mac snuggled close to Harm and placed an angel kiss on his jaw, "You smell good. Did you put on cologne?"

"Little bit," he admitted. "Thought you'd like that."

Mac smiled, "I've made love to you when you smelled like diapers and baby vomit, but yeah," another soft kiss. "I like it."

He laughed a little. "We've been through just about everything and loved all the way through, huh?"

"We have," Mac smiled. "We most certainly have. With you by my side, there is nothing I can't face."

He leaned in and kissed her. "Same here, my love. Same here."

Mac leaned into his kiss and put her arms around his body, pulling him closer. She felt his good hand begin to work on massaging her back as he slipped his tongue into her mouth.

"Like that, huh?" he whispered against her ear.

Mac only offered a soft moan in reply, she was, as always when her husband was touching her and loving her incapable of speech.

He smiled to himself. After all this time, he didn't even have to ask. He moved his good hand from her back to her shoulders, his "bad" hand unable to do much. "Does your neck hurt?" he whispered.

"Not much," she replied. "Its nothing compared to my knees tonight," she told him, pressing her cheek against his and relishing in the touch of his hands and the warmth of his body.

"Hmm, maybe I need to focus my attentions elsewhere then" he said in a low, deep voice, sliding his hands lightly against her body from her shoulders to her knees.

"Mmm," Mac sighed. "Just...don't worry about them," she told him. "Just leave them."

"No, no," he said, sliding her skirt up a few inches to fully reveal her knees to his view. "They're hurting you and I want to help." With infinite tenderness, he began rubbing soft circles against her left knee.

Mac sighed and enjoyed the relief his warm hands brought a few moments, then, "I just miss the days when we touched to touch, not to relieve pain."

"All part of growing old, Mac," he said, his hand still massaging the inflamed joint.

Mac relented, "Can you do the other one?" she asked while reaching her hands around to massage and caress his left hip.

"Gladly," he said sweetly, doing just as she asked. "This is nice, being out here like this."

"It is," she smiled the started to laugh.

He stopped what he was doing and leaned over to face her. "Care to share the joke, my love?"

Mac nodded, "I'm picturing the two of us trying to get out of this cocoon."

He pondered her query for a few moments, and began to laugh himself. "Well, even if we wind up stuck down here for awhile, eventually we'll find a way up. Never let it be said we let anything keep us down." He winked and smiled at her, the same smile which had captured her heart so many years before.

"That is true," she sighed and caresses his beloved face. "I guess I forget we're not thirty anymore. Hell, we're not even fifty anymore, but we won't let that stop us will we?"

Smile softening but not disappearing, he looked into her eyes. "No."

Harm leaned over her once again to kiss her lips firmly. With her assistance he was able to rid her of her blouse and ease her skirt from her body without having to take his lips off her skin. Try as he might, his left hand wouldn't do anything he wanted it to do tonight, but with the give and take they always shared he was able to manage his role unimpaired. Finally Mac lay on the quilts, sans clothes, every inch, visible to his questing eyes.

"Wow..." was all he could think to say. Sure, time had changed her body some, it was a simple reality of life on earth, but he still found her to be one of the most amazing sights of all his life.

Mac sometimes was disappointed by those natural changes, but not tonight as she watched her husband, who had changed himself love her with just his eyes. She reached out two open arms, "Come Harm. Come to me."

The rest of the world seemed to disappear as he moved towards her, towards the love of his life. He leaned gently atop her and whispered into her ear "You're so amazing, baby. So amazing..."

Mac smiled and slowly lifted her legs, bending her knees to give him easier access, "Do you need help?" she asked moving her hip so he got her meaning.

"I think I can manage," he said, winking at her as he slid his right hand beneath the top of her panties. "There are some things this disease just can't take away," he added with a smile.

Mac smiled and moved her body to make it easier for him to rid her of the last barrier. As he worked she undid the zipper on his pants and worked to rid him of his clothing. They made love slower now, and with a few different kinds of groans thrown in amidst the pleasure, but it was still a breathtaking experience if there ever was one.

As in so many times past, the joining of their bodies was an act of complete abandonment and utmost love. Slowly, gently, tenderly the two became one as he leaned in to place whisper soft kisses against the side of her neck, just one of his little nuances, one of their favorites.

When it was over and done, Harm moved off of Mac and lay beside her, hand playing with her hair. "I think that was one of our best," Mac sighed.

"Mmm...yeah, I think so," he agreed, nestling in close as he could get. "I love you so much, Mac."

"I love you," she whispered. "Don't leave me okay?"

"Not as long as there's breath in my body" he promised.

"Not even then," she whispered resting her head on his shoulder. "I can't move."

"Oh, sorry baby," he said, moving a little bit so she could free herself from the covers.

"No, no!" she said and grabbed at him. "I mean I'm too tired to move. Don't go!"

"Okay, it's okay," he said, putting his arm around her shoulders. "Calm down, sweetie. What's wrong?"

Mac shook her head, "Just hold me. Hold me tight."

"Sure," he said softly, pulling her body close to his. "Sure. I've got you, its okay."

"I don't know what just came over me," Mac sighed as she snuggled in his arms and tried to stop trembling. "I just got so scared and I don't know where it came from."

"It doesn't matter," said Harm. "I've got you and its all okay."

Mac calmed herself down in his arms, then told him, "You should go up to bed."

"You too," he said.

"I'll be up later, just go on," Mac replied.

"Okay," he agreed. "Not too long, though. It's been a long day."

Mac nodded, and watched as he went upstairs. She listened as he washed his face, brushed his teeth, and went to their bed. It was only then that she let herself cry.

**Home of Captain and Mrs. Harmon Rabb  
Dahlgren, VA  
November 23, 2029  
0619 ZULU**

Harm laid in their bed, wondering what had caused his beloved wife to cling to him so tightly. His mind began to play through all kinds of different things...was she sick? Was it something with one of the kids? He just didn't know, and it frightened him. He laid in bed for over an hour when he finally decided to go check on her. He returned downstairs, clad in his PJ's and robe, to find her still on the floor, eyes red and puffy.

"You should be sleeping," she said when she saw him come down the stairs. "You need to rest so you can heal."

"I can't rest in the big bed all alone," he said. "Talk to me, sweetie. What's wrong?"

"Everything," she sobbed. "Everything is wrong."

He was baffled. "Mac, I...? What happened?"

"The kids didn't come home and I miss them and your hand and...I can't get off this floor!" she cried and clung once again.

"Oh, baby," he said, kneeling down to help her. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Be...Because there's nothing you can do about it and I know you'd want to and...This was a stupid idea!" she sobbed.

"It wasn't stupid," he said. "It was amazing."

Mac looked at him with watery eyes, "I'm not sure I can get up."

"I'll help you," he said, still kneeling beside her. "Here, take my hands."

Still she hesitated.

He moved his left arm a little and offered her his forearm instead. He knew she was afraid to take hold of his bad hand. "Come on, sweetie. Let's get you up and get to bed, and I'll hold you all night if you want me to."

"Close your eyes," she told him putting her hands on his arms.

Though unsure of her intentions, he did as she asked.

Mac used his arms to pull herself up, and while his closed eyes hid from his view the pain on her face she couldn't stifle the cry when she put her weight on her swollen knees. She stumbled and fell against him.

"Whoa, hey," he said, catching her against his chest. "You okay?"

Mac nodded, "Can you just pull out the sofa?" she asked. "I'll sleep down here tonight."

"It's chilly down here," he said. "Are you sure?"

She nodded, "I can't, Harm. I just can't," she looked at their long staircase.

"Okay, baby," he said. "I'll go get our pillows and we'll camp out down here. Anything to make you feel better."

"You can't sleep on this bed, your back...we're a pair aren't we?" she asked wiping a few leftover tears.

He smiled. "We are, yes... a perfectly matched pair."

"Go on to bed," Mac urged. "I'll be okay down here."

He took a gently hold of her shoulders. "Mac, you're upset and you've been crying and I'm not about to leave you down here alone. Have I ever left you alone when I knew you were sad? Can you think of any time I've done that?"

She shook her head, "But I know you can't sleep on the couch and if you don't rest you'll feel too sick to go bargain hunting with me tomorrow. That is provided I can walk. Its never hurt like this."

"But I don't wanna be away from you," he said, eyes pleading with her, knowing there might not be a compromise but hoping they'd make one somehow.

"I'll be right here," she soothed. "And tomorrow if I can't get up the steps, we'll call Phil and see if he can help us rearrange some things okay?"

With a reluctant sigh, he agreed. "Can I at least bring down your favorite blanket?"

She nodded, "And a few pillows to go under my knees and maybe the joint cream," she told him sensing he needed to do something for her.

"I'll be right back," he said, dropping a kiss on her cheek.

In short order Harm had the bed pulled out, the pillow and blankets there and the joint cream she'd asked for. "I'm sorry," she sighed. "This was supposed to be a beautiful night."

"It was beautiful," he said. "We haven't done that, made love someplace other than the bedroom like that in a long time."

"Not likely to be repeated," Mac sighed as she put her knees on the pillows. "Oooh."

"You okay?" he asked, knowing what that sound meant.

"Yeah, its just my knees," she sighed. "Why did my legs have to go?"

"I wish I knew, Mac," he said, situating one of the pillows just a bit further underneath her leg. "Many things in this life don't come with answers, though."

"I know," she nodded. "Just get me my blanket and I'll try to sleep. You need to sleep too. I know you do."

"I will," he promised her. "I'll make us breakfast in the morning. Waffles and fruit sound good?"

Mac nodded, "I want to go shopping."

He smiled and gave her another kiss. "Sleep well, my little bargain hound. I love you."

"I love you," Mac replied, and prayed that she could fall asleep without Harm beside her.

Harm returned upstairs and climbed into bed, hoping he'd be able to sleep with the other half of his heart sleeping elsewhere.


	4. Chapter 4

Notes: Once again thank you to the readers and reviewers. We hope to have the entire story posted by Christmas, but it is getting a bit long, so it might take until New Years, but we wil get it all up before the holiday are over. Thanks again.

**Home of Captain and Mrs. Harmon Rabb  
Dahlgren, VA  
November 23, 2029  
1308 ZULU**

Harm awakened before Mac the next morning and, true to his word, went downstairs to begin making waffles and fruit. He stopped and stared at her as she slept, and he smiled at the sight. The night had been painful for her, but to look upon her now, you'd never know it.

Mac stirred at the smell of the waffles, "Hey, you're up early."

"Yeah, a little," he said with a yawn. "It's okay though; gives us an earlier start on the day. You sleep well?"

"Once I got to sleep I did," she replied. "You?"

"Not too bad," he said as the light went off on the waffle iron. "I missed you, though."

"I'm sorry," Mac replied. "I'd never have made it up there last night."

"It's not your fault, sweetheart," he said as he poured batter into the iron. "If we weren't so attached to this house, I'd say we should sell it and move to a one story, just so we don't have to sleep apart, you know?"

"I was actually thinking of that myself. When your leg was bad you couldn't leave the upstairs, and now with my legs going...it's worth discussing," Mac sighed and went to move off the sofa bed.

Harm looked around the kitchen. "It'd be hard to part with this place. Lot of memories were made here."

Mac bit her lip a minute, "Do you still need or want some of that stuff in the office?"

"What stuff?" he asked, opening the fridge in search of juice.

"The desk, the file cabinets, all those boxes," she told him. "If you can get rid of even half of it, we can fit a double bed in there."

He thought for a moment. "I like that idea, yeah."

"That way I could go in there and you could still be with me and not hurt in the morning if my knees are acting up," she replied. "Can I have a hand?"

"Sure, sweetie," he said, setting the juice carafe on the counter and offering his good hand to her.

Mac took his hand and gingerly put her weight on her legs. "Okay," she smiled. "I'm good. No more pain than usual."

"Good, good," he said. "Do you need anything, your pills or anything?"

"Yeah, um, I think if I take a pill before we leave I'll be good for the day," she replied. "How are you? Not too tired, or anything?"

He shook his head. "I feel good, I do. Hand is still throwing a fit, but nothing any worse than before."

Mac smiled and was about to reply when their phone rang, "Can you get that? I have to use the bathroom."

"Sure," he said, walking to the other side of the room and picking up the receiver. "Hello?"

"Hi, Dad," Nikki said into the phone. "How are you?"

"Hey Nik," he said with a smile. "I'm good. How're you this fine morning?"

"Not too bad," she replied. "You sound happy."

"I am," he said. "Making your mom and I a nice breakfast, then we're going shopping."

"Sounds good," Nikki smiled. "How is Mom?"

"Sore," said Harm. "Her knees are bothering her some today, but she's tough."

"That's been going on a lot lately," Nikki sighed. "Is she around? I want to talk to her."

"She'll be back out in just a sec," he said as he realized the waffle was burning.

Nikki and Harm chatted until Mac came out of the bathroom and then he handed her the phone. She and Nikki chatted idly for a few minutes, then Mac said, "Okay, Monday then. I love you." Before hanging up the phone.

"Monday what?" he asked, trying in vain to clear the smell of burned waffles from the kitchen after he set the table.

"She wants to have lunch," Mac replied.

"Oh, that's great," he said, setting a plate of fruit on the table. "You two don't get to do that as often as you used to."

"I know, and she wants to," Mac smiled. "That smells good."

"Dig in," he said with a smile. "Coffee's almost ready."

They sat together and enjoyed breakfast, even though the smell of the burned waffle remained for the duration. After they ate, showered and dressed, it was off to the mall for a few hours of shopping.

**Tysons Corner Center  
McLean, VA  
November 23, 2029  
1740 ZULU**

Harm took the backroads toward McLean to visit Mac's favorite holiday shopping center. Mac knew exactly what she was after, and she was glad Harm as with her, if for no other reason, to carry the packages. Occasionally as they shopped, he step near her, pull her close, and place tiny kisses on her cheeks or the back of her neck.

Mac was hungry about half way through and though she didn't mention it to Harm, her knees were starting to ache, so they moved to a bench and he bought her a stuffed pretzel. As he sat and she sat and ate, they heard a delighted; "Gampa!" from a few yards away.

Harm turned around to see his twin grandsons running towards him, Jimmy a few steps ahead of Johnny and typically far more vocal, "Hey, there are my boys!" he exclaimed.

Mark ran after his sons, his wife bringing up the rear with the carriage, "Hi, Dad, Mom," he greeted and gave Mac a kiss on the cheek as Harm dropped to give Johnny and Jimmy hugs.

"How're my guys feeling?" Harm asked the youngsters as he held them close.

Jimmy immediately buried his face against Harm's arm, signifying he still didn't feel too great. Johnny followed suit, and soon both were nuzzling on their Grandpa's arms.

Harm laughed a little and looked up at his son. "Guess that answers that question, huh?"

"Their temps are down so we thought we'd try to do some shopping, but they still have ear aches," he sighed. "Jenna?"

"What, sweetie?" she replied.

"Can you take them back to the truck?" Mark asked. "I want to visit a bit with my folks."

Jenna nodded. "Okay, come on boys, let's go sit in the truck and listen to your stories, okay?" The boys had some storybooks on CD that their parents learned to never leave the house without.

They hugged their grandparents, and got went off with their Mom. Mark sat down next to his Mom and put his arm around her pulling her close, "How was your Thanksgiving?"

"Quiet" she answered. "But it was still nice; we had a good day. How was yours?"

"Non existent. They were so fussy," he sighed. "You look tired. Is Dad...?" His voice dropped as he spoke around Harm, who was standing ten feet away.

"He's doing well" she said. "No worse than before anyway. Do you know what he thinks, or at least _thought_?"

"No, what?" Mark asked, keeping his voice low so Harm would not hear.

Mac glanced up at Harm, knowing he was likely hearing their every word. "He thought" she whispered. "That maybe everyone stayed away because of his illness. I told him no, but the fear was there anyway."

"Chris does," Mark confessed. "And it upsets the boys when its noticeable." His voice was so low he hope that Harm wouldn't hear in all the noise.

But he did. He heard every word.

"Don't tell him that," whispered Mac, fearing he already knew. "Are you sure? Did Chris tell you this?"

"Yeah, he said when Dad's leg was...it got to him. He's worked with MS patients and he said Dad is gonna just get worse and we're all kidding ourselves he's gonna stay as he is," Mark replied. "And I've thought about that too. He's had three flare ups in the last year, only eight total in six years. He's getting worse."

"Harm?" Mac spoke up just then.

"Can you get me some of that bone Tylenol from the CVS?" she asked. "My knees are hurting again."

"Okay, sure," he said, slowly heading for the drugstore, his heart saddened by the conversation he'd overheard.

"He's getting worse, yes," agreed Mac. "He's not, however, so bad that he can't do things with his family when he wants to."

"I know Mom," he replied. "I do, but it upsets all of us to see him like this. He can't even really help you out this time can he?"

She sighed. "Not like he once could, no."

"You see," Mark sighed. "I want him to be better, I do. I really do. But it's just not going to be that way. And it scares the boys," he sighed. "My sons get scared when Dad can't pick them up like he's supposed to in their head or when he can't keep an even gait and I'm sensitive to that. I have to be."

"I know, son, I know," she said softly. "You have to protect them, but the flip side of that is you need to take into account what your father thinks and feels."

"I know, Mom," Mark sighed. "And I didn't stay home yesterday because of that, I didn't, and I'm not saying I would but I worry about you. Your arthritis is bad, I know it is and Dad can't help you like he used to. Jenna and I think...we think maybe its time for you two to move up near us."

"Oh," said Mac, looking down at her hands. "Maybe...I guess, it might be an idea. I'll talk with your Dad."

Mark nodded, "Okay. I love you both Mom, you know that. You two protected and nurtured us our whole lives. It's my turn. Please, talk to him. Think about it." This as he drew his mother into a warm strong hug.

"I will," she said, holding her son close. "I love you, son."

Mark kissed his mother's hair and went to join his wife before his father returned.

Harm walked to and from the drugstore slowly, his mind on the talk his wife and son were having when he left. He hated hearing that his illness was upsetting anyone to the point of avoidance, especially his own family. He returned to the bench where Mac was sitting, and handed her the sack.

"Here, sweetheart," he said.

"Thanks," she smiled. "I think we should hit the toy store and then head home."

He nodded, a sad look on his face.

"What's wrong?" Mac asked. "Are you tired?"

"No," he answered, his voice soft and low. "We can go to the toy store, that's fine.

"Harm we've been married for 29 years, I know when you are tired or sick or sad, and you are something," she said rising and wincing at the pressure on her legs.

He sighed. "I was right, Mac. They're avoiding me."

She slipped her arm around his waist, "No. They aren't."

"Mark just said they were," he countered. "Chris is."

Mac sighed, "Chris has worked with primary progressive MS patients, he's scared. Talk to him, you can help each other understand."

"Yeah, maybe," said Harm. "It just hurts, you know?"

"I know," Mac sighed. "Harm, Mark suggested..."

He looked at her. "What?"

"He suggested we move up closer to him so he can help," she sighed.

"What did you tell him?" asked Harm.

"That we'd talk about it," she replied. "And I think that it might be a good idea."

Harm was quiet for a moment. "Yeah, it is a good idea. We were just talking about moving anyway, makes sense to move closer to someone."

"You're not okay with this," she sighed.

"It's not that I'm not 'okay' with it," he said. "It's just hard to think about giving up the house we've had for so long, and it is hard to think about becoming reliant on the kids more than we are right now. There are lots of things to consider, but I won't say it's out of the question."

Mac nodded, "Okay. Hey, toy store."

They didn't spend too long in the toy store because they spied the perfect gift for the grandsons within the first three minutes. Tricycles, matching blue ones. Browsing for a little longer they found some matchbox cars and some small toy airplanes to use as stocking stuffers, and after checking out, they were on their way. Harm was exceptionally quiet the entire outing, his heart aching with every thought of how badly he missed having his children around for the holidays.

**Home of Captain and Mrs. Harmon Rabb  
Dahlgren, VA  
November 23, 2029  
2214 ZULU**

When they reached the house, Harm headed inside without taking even the smallest package with him. Mac sighed. She'd seen this before, when his grandmother passed away, when his mom died, when Nikki announced she was getting married, and when Chris joined the peace corp. Any time something hurt him, deeply scarred him, he'd retreat until he wanted to deal with things again.

She slowly made her way in and out of the house, legs aching from their use until the packages were inside then she called out for Harm. "Harm! Sweetheart, where are you?"

He heard her from his seat in the study, but he didn't answer.

"Harm?" Mac called again. "Are you upstairs?"

"Yeah," he called in reply, his tone telling his mood.

"Will you come down?" she asked, she really didn't want to climb those stairs.

He sighed. "Five minutes."

Mac sighed herself and turned to start putting the packages away and began assembling sandwiches for dinner. When her internal clock said that not only five but ten minutes passed she called out again, "Harm, supper is ready!"

Her call snapped him out of the daze he'd fallen into, and he rose from his chair and went to join her for dinner, his heart still heavy.

She'd set their sandwiches up in the living room, seating herself in the recliner he usually sat in and propping up her legs. She flicked on the TV and started to watch reruns when he came down, "Why were you hiding up there? I could have used your help down here."

"Just felt like being alone for awhile," he answered as he sat on the sofa and picked up his plate.

"I hope you don't mind," she referred to her residence in his chair.

He looked up from his plate and shook his head a little. "No, it's okay."

"What's wrong?" she asked him softly. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah, I'm alright," he said, picking at his sandwich.

"You don't seem it. Twenty-nine years of marriage, I know when you are not all right," Mac sighed. "What gives?"

He set his plate back on the coffee table and slouched back on the sofa. "Yesterday just didn't feel right, and then to hear today that I'm right, that my kids are staying away because I'm sick... Hurts, you know?"

"They aren't staying away because you are sick," Mac sighed. "That is not true."

"Mark said Chris is," he countered.

"Chris doesn't understand that you aren't going to be like the hospice patients," Mac replied. "He's never been very literate when it comes to research."

"I know," said Harm. "But Mark also said it upsets the little ones to see me like this. I can't blame them, I guess. It upsets me, too."

"Jimmy and Johnny are babies," Mac sighed. "Mark understands. They don't like seeing me limping either."

"You've limped their entire lives," he said. "It just didn't seem like anyone stayed away until now. It hurts."

"I'm sorry," she sighed. "But Harm...do you believe that you are sick?"

"I know I am," he said plainly. "And I know it can be hard to look at me when I'm not at my best, but... I just miss the way things used to be."

"Your illness isn't noticeable unless you try to do too much," Mac replied. "And you always try to do too much."

He shrugged. "Hard to change, I guess."

"Well, the more you push the longer the flare ups last and the more severe they are," Mac pointed out gesturing with her hands toward his mostly dead hand.

Mac sighed and slid off the recliner to move closer to him, "You need to rest more, you need to let me do more," Mac encouraged. "You need to learn to listen to your body."

He took a deep breath. "You're right. I do."

"What's it telling you to do now?" Mac asked hoping he'd say eat, but not so sure.

He was quiet for a moment. "I think I need to take a little nap. Wake me in an hour?"

She rubbed his thigh, "Two hours," she told him. "You haven't slept well in a few nights."

With a small nod and a weak smile, he rose from the sofa and headed upstairs.

**November 24, 2029  
0028 ZULU**

Mac cleaned up the dinner and did the dishes, then though about what she could do to help Harm. Thinking he'd been happy is one of the kids visited she called Nikki.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Nikki," Mac spoke, her voice a bit shaky with bottled up emotion. "It's Mom."

"Hi, Mom," replied Nikki. "Is everything okay? Is something wrong with Dad?"

At that soft query, it all came out and Mac tried to stifle a sob.

"Mom? What is it?" pressed a very worried Nikki.

Mac swallowed the lump and tried. "Daddy..." she began.

Nikki's heart began to pound. "What happened? Is it the MS? Is he okay?"

Mac remained silent a few minutes and softly cried into the phone, thinking of her conversation with Mark and with Harm that day.

"Mom, please?" begged Nikki. "I'm really worried here, please tell me something."

It took Mac a few minutes to get her composure, and then she said, "He's okay. He is, he's just...He...Do you think maybe you could come by sometime early next week?"

"Of course, sure," said Nikki. "Can I do anything until then?"

"No," Mac replied. "He...yeah, talk to Chris and see if he'll be home for Christmas. You'll be here won't you?"

"Oh, definitely," Nikki answered.

"He thinks that you are all avoiding him," Mac told her daughter. "Because he's sick."

"But we're not!" she exclaimed. "Phil's sister was here and-"

"He thinks you are," Mac said. "You know Daddy."

"I do," said Nikki softly. "I'll stop by next week, okay. If you need anything before then, you just call, okay?"

"Why doesn't he come with us on Monday?" Mac asked.

"No, no," said Nikki. "This is a mother/daughter thing. I love Daddy, you know I do, but this is for you and me this time."

"Okay," Mac agreed. "I better get back to your father. He's voluntarily napping right now."

"Daddy never does that," said Nikki, amazed and concerned.

"I know," Mac replied. "But he needs it. You know?"

"Yeah," she answered. "Give him a kiss for me. I love you both."

"I will, I'll see you on Monday," Mac told her. "I love you." Then, as her intuition kicked in, "Nikki?"

"Yeah, mom?"

"Are you feeling okay?" she asked.

"Fine, yeah" answered Nikki. "I'll see you Monday."

Mac ended the call and went about the rest of the tidying up before making the long slow trek upstairs to wake Harm.

**0129 ZULU**

Harm had fallen asleep on top of the covers, in his clothes. She sat beside him and softly stroked his cheek, "Harm?"

"Mmm..." he moaned. "Still sleepy."

She continued to rub his cheek, "You want to get up and put your pajamas on and get under the covers?"

"Later," he mumbled. "Still sleepy."

Mac nodded and continued to rub his cheek softly as he drifted back off to sleep. Not happy that he seemed cold, she removed his shoes and worked to get his blankets out from under him.

**0254 ZULU**

Mac took advantage of Harm's extended nap time to soak in a hot tub and relax her aching knees and back. Then she did her facial and got ready for bed. She was reading in the rocking chair they'd used to rock all their babies to sleep when he stirred.

"Mmm... What time is it?" he asked her.

"Its just before ten," she replied. "How do you feel?"

"Better," he answered with a yawn. "I woke up just in time to go to bed, huh?"

"Yeah," Mac replied. "You want me to get you something to eat?"

"Nah, I'm good," he replied.

"You hardly ate any supper," Mac sighed.

"I'll eat a big breakfast," he said, crawling from the bed.

"Do you need help?" she asked raising from the chair to assist him in anything he might need. She hoped he'd surrender a bit more to her.

"You can dig out my green pajamas if you would," he said. "I'm gonna go use the bathroom."

Mac nodded and went to find the old worn pair of pajamas he just loved. She put them on his side of the bed and gave his pillow a fluff as she waited for him to come out.

Once he finished in the bathroom and donned his pajamas, he realized something was wrong. With a tiny smile, he said to Mac "come here."

Mac came over to him, "What? Do you need help?"

He shook his head and opened his arms to her. "I need a hug. A nice, long hug."

Mac wrapped her arms around his waist and held him long and tight rubbing her cheek against his chest. "I'm glad you took a nap."

"Me, too," he said, gently swaying back and forth as he held his wife. "Sorry I was so grumpy. Not sure what got into me."

"You are tired, you don't feel well, and you are sad," Mac replied. "It's okay. I just want you be all right, that's all."

"I will be," he promised her. "I will be."

Mac pulled back and leaned up to kiss his lips, "Will you?" she asked a trace of some of her emotions from earlier returning.

"Hey, hey," he said calmly. "I will, I really will. What's this all about, sweetie?"

She moved out of his arms and went around to her side of the bed, "Its nothing. Forget it."

"You're upset about something, Mac," he said. "Is it me?"

She shook her head and tried to deny it, "Uh uh."

"Are you sure?" he pressed gently.

She didn't reply again for several seconds, "I'm just tired."

Realizing he wasn't going to get anywhere, he let it go. "Okay, let's call it a night."

"Harm?" Mac said then fearing she alienated him.

"Yeah?" he replied, looking up.

"Promise me things will be different from now on?" she asked. "Promise you'll do all the things the doctors told you. Promise you'll let me help you."

"Okay, okay," he said softly. "I need to do better at letting myself be helped. I know that. I'm sorry I upset you, sweetie."

Mac nodded, "Its okay. Now, do you want or need anything before I get in bed. Once I'm in, I need you."

He thought for a moment. "Yeah, I think so."

"Okay," Mac sighed and sunk into bed. "Your turn."

Without even needing to ask, he slid closer to her and began to give her a massage. He knew all the places which pained her, like her knees, shoulders and her left ankle. He'd been able to tell just by her tone of voice that her knees were giving her the most grief that night, so that's where he focused his initial attentions.

"How did you know?" she asked relaxing into his soft touch.

"The same way you know when I'm in pain," he answered. "I've learned to read you over the years, I think."

"I'm glad," Mac replied. "I'm sorry about last night."

"Its okay," he said sweetly.

"It's just I'd run into Terri Coulter the other day..."Mac sighed.

"Oh?" he asked.

"Tom died," she told him.

"Oh, that's sad," said Harm, moving from the left knee to the right.

"And he was about your age," she sighed. "And he was in perfect health."

"So that's what brought this on," he said. "Mac, sweetie, I'm not going to die from anything I've got right now. Please don't fret like that."

"I'm not," Mac sighed. "But he just died, just like that. Heart attack and gone, just like that. She's lost."

"I'd imagine so," sighed Harm, feeling sad for the friend he'd made so many years before.

"Oh...right there," Mac moaned as Harm hit a particularly tender spot on her knee. "Oh..."

"That hurt?" he asked, stopping for a moment.

"Yes, but its okay," she replied. "Oh..."

"Sorry," he said. "You were up a lot today."

"Can you promise me something?" Mac asked.

"Anything," he replied.

"Promise me that I can go first," she sighed. "That I'll never have to look like Terri did."

"Oh, sweetheart," he said, ceasing his massage and pulling her close.

"Promise me," she whispered burying her cheek against his neck.

"I...I can't promise," he began to say, but sensing the fear she was feeling, he changed his mind. "I promise."

"Thank you," Mac replied. "I'm sorry about this mood I've been in. But its...we're older and I've been feeling so crappy lately..."

He gave her a gentle squeeze. "No excuse needed, sweetheart. I love you no matter what."

"Can you come see Dr. McKeever on Tuesday?" she asked rolling over so be could do her shoulders.

"Sure I can," he said with a yawn. "Shall we sleep, my love?"

Mac nodded and snuggled next to him, holding his hand in hers. "I love you," she whispered to him as his breathing began to even out.

"Love...you," he whispered in a hushed reply as sleep claimed him.


	5. Chapter 5

See previous chapter for notes.

**Grimaldi's Restaurant  
Culpeper, VA  
November 26, 2029  
1654 ZULU**

The weekend passed and soon Mac found her way into the city to meet Nikki for their lunch. Nikki was a beautiful girl; she looked just like Harm, thin, tall, with brilliant Rabb eyes and pale skin. Mac spotted her child and moved to greet her with a hug, "Hello, Sweetheart."

"Hi, Mom," she replied. "How're you?"

"Not bad," Mac sighed having a seat. "Not bad. How's Philip?"

"He's good," said Nikki. "He's getting ready to go out of town on business for 4 days next week."

"Oh, he does that often," Mac sighed. "When your Dad was gone oh I missed him so much."

Nikki nodded. "I always hate it when he leaves, but I'm learning to get used to it. How is Dad, by the way?"

"He's all right," Mac sighed. "He's sleeping a lot."

"Is he okay though?" she asked.

"He seems to be. I think he's letting himself feel fatigued this time, which is good," Mac replied. "The more he rests the better off he'll be."

"That's what the doctors have always said," stated Nikki,

"I know. He refused to acknowledge it for so long, now I think it finally sank in. We've talked about selling the house," Mac sighed.

"Mark mentioned that last time I talked with him," said Nikki. "He said you two might move closer to him and Jenna & the boys?"

"Yeah, we're talking about it. My legs are not getting any better and Daddy probably won't get worse but he'll have more and more of these closer together and we're so isolated. But enough of that, let's talk about this lunch. What's this about?" Mac asked her daughter.

Nikki smiled, looking every bit the picture of her father. "Well, I have some news for you."

"Is it serious?" Mac fretted her mother' instincts kicking in.

Again, Nikki smiled. "Seriously good... Phil and I are gonna have a baby."

Mac screeched with delight and rushed over to Nikki's side of the table to hug her daughter, "Oh, that's amazing...I...Congratulations."

Nikki held her mother close. "Thanks, Mom. We're so excited!"

Mac pulled back and her bottom lip began to quiver.

"Oh, now Mom," smiled Nikki, her own eyes starting to fill with tears.

"What?" Mac laughed. "I can cry can't I? My baby is having a baby."

"You can cry, sure," said Nikki with a smile. "But it means I will, too and I've been doing a lot of that lately, mostly happy, but still..."

Mac nodded and hugged her daughter. She pulled back and sat down, "Let me tell you a story."

**Home of Commander and Mrs. Harmon Rabb  
Dahlgren, VA  
December 15, 2000  
1412 ZULU**

"Mac," said Harm gently. "It's not anything to cry over, sweetheart. It's just lipstick. You look beautiful even without it.

Mac continued to sob, "You don't understand," she hiccupped.

"Shh...shh..." he soothed, bringing her close. "Try to calm down if you can."

"Its...just...That's my favorite and they discontinued it," she sobbed. "Why did they do that?"

"I don't know, sweetie," he said. "Do you have any others you could use? I know you have more than one tube of lipstick, right?"

"But those aren't my favorite," she cried. "You don't care."

"Oh, Mac," he said gently. "I do care; I care a lot, I do. I'll help you look for it if you want me to. Would that help?"

She sobbed even more, "No. It's your fault. I hate you, you hear me?"

His eyes grew wide. "My fault? I didn't take it, Mac."

"I know," she cried. "But you...you...You made me pregnant!"

He couldn't stifle a chuckle. "Well...yeah, that I did do."

"And that's why I'm so stupid and cranky and fat and ugly and...I hate you for doing this to me. I hate you for it!" she sobbed and flopped down on the bed sobbing hysterically.

Harm shook his head. She'd had moments like this before, but she always calmed down pretty fast. He walked over to the bed and knelt down beside her. "I'm sorry, Mac."

**Grimaldi's Restaurant  
Culpeper, VA  
November 26, 2029  
1708 ZULU**

"It took Daddy close to two hours to calm me down, its normal Nikki and since I was so prone to it, you will be too, I imagine," Mac sighed. "I just hope Phil is as good with you as Daddy was with me."

"They're a lot alike," said Nikki. "Very strong and very...very amazing."

"When do you plan to tell Daddy?" Mac asked.

"Soon," said Nikki. "We're trying to figure out a really special way to tell him. Any thoughts?"

"Do you have a spare ultrasound picture?" Mac asked.

"No, but I can make a copy," she answered.

"That's a good idea. You can wrap it up and give it to him for Christmas," Mac suggested.

Nikki sipped her ice water. "Yeah, we could do that. How did you tell the grandparents?"

"Well, I called Uncle Matt in Leavenworth, and Daddy took me to visit Grandma Sarah when Nana and Pop were there when I was five months along with you and Mark," Mac sighed. "They nearly fell over."

"I'd imagine so!" laughed Nikki. "Five months along with twins looks like eight months along with a singleton. They must have been floored!"

"I've never been happier than when I was pregnant," Mac sighed. "Daddy either. That's why it hurts him so much. About Chris..."

"I know," sighed Nikki. "He just...I dunno, he doesn't seem to understand. Daddy needs him, but he's afraid."

"Daddy needs all of you, and he needs a big lift of his spirits," Mac told her. "That why I'm so glad you are going to visit later in the week."

"Oh, uh, about that..." began Nikki.

"Nikki," Mac sighed. "Please..."

"I'm sorry, Mom," she said. "I found out this morning I have to be in Richmond for a 3-day workshop this week, and I have meetings all day tomorrow."

"Fine, that's okay," Mac sighed. "So we won't see you for a while then?"

"Probably not," she said softly. "I'm sorry, Mom. I really am."

Mac nodded, "That's okay." For the rest of the meal mother and daughter chatted idly, until it was time to part.

**Home of Captain and Mrs. Harmon Rabb  
Dahlgren, VA  
November 26, 2029  
2012 ZULU**

Mac got home just after three pm and didn't see Harm downstairs but his car was in the driveway.

He head her call his name when she entered the house. "I'm in here!" he called to her from the study.

"What are you doing?" she called from downstairs. "You gonna come down?"

"In a little bit," he replied. "I'm reading the paper."

"Just now?" Mac asked. "It's after three."

He sighed. "Got a late start. I'll be down for dinner."

Mac wanted to accept that, but her wifely worry drove her to climb the long staircase to check on him.

He saw her peek her head around the doorframe of the study. "Mac, I'm fine. I just want to sit up here and read."

"Did you nap?" she asked. "Did you eat lunch?"

"I'm not hungry," he said. "I did take a nap, though. Two hours."

"How do you feel?" she asked. "Any improvement?" She hoped the rest would make a difference.

He shook his head as he continued to look at the paper. "Same."

"Can I get a kiss?" she asked. She sensed his mood was off.

For the first time all day, he smiled and looked up to kiss his wife. "I love you."

"I love you too," Mac replied. "Dinner's at six. You want to eat up here? I can bring it up for you."

"No, I'll be down," he said, his mood lightening just a touch.

**2319 ZULU**

Mac cooked their meal, chicken pot pies with soy chicken for Harm and real chicken for herself and had them set on the table to cool and Harm still hadn't come down. She walked to the foot of the steps and called him, "Dinner!"

He heard her call, and with a sigh folded his newspaper, tossed it onto the side table and made his way down to the kitchen. "Smells good," he said as he joined her at the table.

"I'm glad you think so," Mac sighed. "I've hardly seen you at all today."

"I know," he said. "I'm sorry. I've been kind of down today. I'll get over it, though."

"Anything you want to talk about?" Mac asked as she began to eat her dinner.

"Nah, nothing really," he said. "If I think a lot, you know, about the kids and the holidays and everything...makes me kinda blah."

"The holidays never made you blah before," Mac countered. "Need help?"

"No, no," he said. "I'll be fine, Honey. Honest I will. This pie is amazing."

"Thank you," she told him, quiet herself.

"I never asked you how your lunch with Nikki went," he said, taking a swallow of ice water.

"It was nice," Mac replied. "We had a nice talk."

He nodded. "She doing well? How's Phil?"

"They're good, she has a busy week and he'll be traveling this week," Mac told him. "Don't forget we have tomorrow."

"I know, I remembered," he said.

"Do you even know why we're going to Dr. McKeever?" Mac asked.

"You told me," he said. "But I'm having a senior moment. Tell me again."

"My legs," Mac reminded him. "The increased pain I've been having, partly from climbing stairs since my husband won't come down and spend time with me."

Harm felt a pang of guilt. She was right; he was making her climb stairs to find him, and he knew it needed to stop. "I'm sorry, love," he said. "That'll change, I promise."

"Fine," she sighed and continued to eat her supper.

"I haven't been much fun to be around lately," he said, reaching across the table to take her hand. "I'll really work on that, okay? I know the kids love me, I need to stop feeling so sad."

Mac pulled her hand back, "Fine," she replied again.

Realizing she was upset with him, Harm shied away from further attempts at affection and ate the rest of his meal in silence.

**November 27, 2029  
0325 ZULU**

The evening went on without much interaction, and when bedtime rolled around, the pair readied themselves in relative silence. There was no thick animosity or tension, just...not much talking. When he went to kiss her goodnight, he could feel her broken heart, and it in turn broke his.

Mac stepped around the side of the bed, stumbling on one of his shoes. She gasped at the pain that shot through her knees at the sudden shift of weight.

"Mac!" he exclaimed. "Sweetheart, what happened?"

"I tripped over your damned shoes," she snapped. "Why didn't you put them away?"

"I didn't think about it," he said, holding his arms out to her. "I'm sorry, Mac, I am."

She ignored his out stretched arms and sat on the edge of the bed, flinching and whimpering as she lifted her legs in.

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "I am. I really am. Can I get you anything? Can I do anything?"

"Just leave me alone," she snapped at him. "Leave me alone."

"But you're in pain," he said. "I want to help."

"I don't want your help!" she snapped.

He felt as if someone had punched him right in the heart, hearing she didn't want his help. His face fell and his eyes stung as he asked her why. "I can't help you?"

"No," she said coldly. "No, I'm fine. I can do it myself."

He sensed there was a deeper issue here. "Are you mad at me for being so reclusive these last few days? Is that it?"

"No," she snapped. "I'm mad at you because you are annoying me. Go to sleep."

With a long sigh and a heavy heart, Harm went to his side of the bed and climbed into bed. He wanted to make her aches and pains stop, but she was pushing him away. He'd asked for it, in a sense. She'd wanted to help him with things throughout the course of his disease, and he'd usually only allow her to do a fraction of what she offered.

Mac lay and fumed in her anger, bit her lip in her pain, and finally sobbed at the uselessness of it all.

"Mac?" he said softly, rolling to face her as he heard her cry.

"Go to sleep," she sniffled.

"Mac, please," he said. "This is hurting me. Please talk to me."

"Hurting you?" Mac rolled over. "If you're hurting think of the pain I'm in. You...Go to sleep."

"I can't sleep with you like this," he said softly.

She didn't say anything that time, she just cried harder.

He couldn't handle her hurting so badly. Despite her order to go to sleep, he once again turned to face her and put his arms around her, holding her affectionately as she cried.

And she let him as she cried and sobbed and hiccupped until she was finished.

"There, its okay," he soothed. "Can we talk or do you just want to lay like this for awhile?"

"Talk," she said softly. "Talk and lay like this." Playing with his chest she asked, "Why can't you let me be your wife?"

"What do you mean, sweetheart?" he asked.

"Why won't you let me be your wife? Why do you insist our vows be one sided?" she asked. "I had pain and you wanted to help me right?"

"I did," he agreed softly.

"How did it feel when I wouldn't let you?" Mac asked. "When I didn't ask you to help me get in bed because my knees are hurting so bad right now, how did it feel? Huh?"

He was quiet for a moment. "It hurt," he finally admitted, as the meaning behind her sadness clicked in his mind. "I've been hurting you, haven't I?"

She nodded, "You're been hurting me for six years."

"Oh, Mac," he said, squeezing her closer. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. Can you forgive me?"

"No, because you still don't understand what you do that hurts, do you?" she asked.

"I think so," he said. "But maybe not. Can you tell me?"

"Tonight, I sat there and watched you work on that pot pie with one hand, it had to have been cold by the time you finished, but you didn't even say, Mac can you help me?" she sighed. "I offer because I know you, I know you need my help. If you were a younger man, in your twenties or thirties and this hit, it might be different, but you are not, you are nearing seventy years old and doing those things, they put stress on your body that...Have you wondered why this one has lasted nearly four months?"

He sighed. "Not until now, I guess. I've been doing too much, haven't I?"

She nodded, "I'm not healthy all the time either," she sighed. "My legs are hurting and I ask you, 'Harm, can you do this?' and you do it. Do you think less of me?"

"Not at all," he said adamantly

"Fine," Mac sighed. "So tomorrow, instead of taking fifteen minutes to get dressed, will you let me help you?"

He smiled just a little. "I'll even let you pick my outfit if you want to."

She chuckled, "Now let's test this out. Harm, my knees are on fire. Can you get me my pills?" she asked.

"I'll be back in just a second," he said, releasing his grasp of her in order to go get her pills. He returned with the pill bottle in his hand and a bottle of water tucked beneath his left arm. "Here," he said, holding the pill bottle out to her. "Can you open this for me, please?"

Mac took the bottle and opened it. She took the medicine and thanked him. "You see that wasn't hard was it?" she smiled and turned out the light.

**November 27, 2029  
1733 ZULU**

Mac's appointment the following morning went well, all things considered. Dr. McKeever confirmed what she knew, that her arthritis was worsening. He gave her a cane to use, and he recommended she begin physical therapy. She was expecting this, and she knew there was a chance he'd suggest surgery, which he did. Not wanting to make and hurried decisions, she told the doctor she'd give it some thought, and with a kind goodbye, she and Harm returned home.

Mac used that cane to climb their steps and collapsed onto the sofa before removing her coat. "Finally!" she sighed.

"Can I get you anything, sweetheart?" asked Harm.

"One of my pain killers and some water," she replied. "That exam was murder on these bones or lack thereof."

"I know," he said. "I'm so sorry. I'll get your pill, okay?"

As he'd been doing Harm brought Mac her pain pill bottle to open then assisted her with removing her coat and propped her swollen knees up on pillows. "Thank you Darling," she sighed. "Why don't' you go up and nap?"

"How about I recline in my chair over there and nap?" he offered. "I'd rather not be so far away from you if I can help it."

"You won't be comfortable in your chair," she sighed. "I'll be fine."

"What do you mean I won't be comfortable?" he asked, sitting down beside her. "That chair is the finest that La-z-Boy had to offer in 2010, it's barely 19 years old. I love my chair; it's so...me. Fits my body perfectly, just like you fit my heart."

"Someone is being sweet today," she sighed. "What did you do or not do?"

He laughed a little. "Nothing! Can't a guy be sweet just because he wants to be?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Mac sighed. "If you want to sleep in the chair sleep in the chair, I have to get up and start wrapping gifts."

"I'll help if you'd like," he offered.

"Okay, sure," Mac replied. "You can do all the bags and the labels, you do those best," she sighed. "After you rest. How's that hand been? I forgot to ask today."

He moved it a little and looked at it. "About the same, I suppose. No worse."

She sighed, "That's better than the alternative I suppose. Go rest."

With a nod and a smile, Harm went upstairs to bed. He knew he'd rest better there, despite not wanting to leave her alone. She'd be fine; he'd just miss her a little more if she was downstairs.

Mac rested her sore legs for a few moments, the picked up the phone to call her son at work.

Mark lifted the phone, "Mark Rabb."

"Hi, sweetheart," she said.

"Hey, Mom. How are you? What did the doctor say?" he asked worrying just like his Dad always did.

"He said the arthritis is worsening," said Mac.

"We knew that though from the increase in pain," Mark sighed. "What is he going to do about it?"

"I have a cane now," said Mac. "And I'll get into therapy for it a couple days a week."

"No surgery?" Mark asked. He worried that if she had to have surgery his father wouldn't be able to care for her as she needed.

"It's an option," she said. "We're thinking about it."

"Okay," he sighed. "How's Dad?"

"He's good," she said. "Tired, but really good."

"Any more feeling or mobility?" he asked.

She sighed. "No, but at least it's no worse than before. We take each day like that as a small victory."

"That's good. Listen Mom, I have to go. Thank you for letting me know about the doctor. I was worried," he sighed. "Have you and Dad talked about moving in with us?"

"Some, yes," she said. "We're still talking, we'll let you know what we decide soon, I promise."

"Good, I love you Mom," Mark told her.

"I love you too," she said. "Give Jenna and the boys a hug and kiss for me, and I'll talk to you later."

"Ok, will do. Bye now," he replied and hung up.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Thanks to those who have been reading and reviewing. We love those reviews. We thrive on them. LOL! This chapter is a bit sad, but it is necessary. Trust us! ;)

**Home of Captain and Mrs. Harmon Rabb  
Dalhlgren, VA  
December 13, 2029  
1426 ZULU**

A few weeks later found Mac waking Harm as it neared 0930 and he still hadn't even stirred. "Harm?" she said softly as she stroked his cheek. "Time to get up, Honey."

"Mmmm...don't wanna," he mumbled.

"Come on, Sweetheart," she urged. "We don't' have a very busy day, but we have somethings to do. We were going to do the outside of the house today."

He rolled back over in bed. "I'm sleepy. A few more hours."

"Honey, you've had ten hours," she reminded him. "Come on."

"I'd rather not," he said gently. "I'm tired."

"Don't you feel well?" she asked and stroked his forehead. He looked old today, she noted.

"Not really," he replied. "I don't feel sick, per se, but I don't feel...I dunno, I just don't wanna get up."

"You want me to make you some breakfast?" she asked.

"No, thanks," he said.

"You sure? Just a little bit?" she asked again. "You won't feel better if you don't eat."

He sighed. "Maybe some toast and jelly?"

"Okay," Mac smiled. "Can I do anything else?"

"You can make sure my favorite shirt is clean," he offered. "I think it is, but if not can you throw in a load of light colors and wash it?"

"Sure, I can, but why do you need that shirt?" Mac asked.

"It's comfy," he said.

"Okay," Mac replied. "I'll tend to that."

He gave her his softest, sweetest smile. "Come here."

She moved and sat down at his bedside.

He reached up and brought her face down close to his, and kissed her lips so softly. "I love you."

"I love you too," Mac replied. "I just wish you'd tell me what's hurting or what's wrong," Mac replied.

"There's nothing in particular," he said. "I'm just feeling lazy today; I'm okay."

"You don't get lazy," Mac replied. "Stop it."

"Everyone gets a lazy day now and again," he said. "This is one of mine."

Harm rolled back over in bed. He wasn't sick, he'd been honest about that part. He'd also been honest about just wanting a lazy day, though he knew she didn't believe him.

Mac fussed with Harm's breakfast and carried it up to him and a tray. "Here you go, toast with a smile," Mac smiled.

"Just the way I like it," he said, sitting up in bed.

"Harm, Honey please," Mac sighed. "Please...we talked about this."

"About what?" he asked, picking up a piece of toast and taking a bite.

"About you not hiding from me," she sighed. "You don't just stay in bed all day. You haven't done that once, even when you have your gallbladder out or that bad flu when the kids were little. You never didn't get up in the morning, not one time."

He looked up at her. "Sweetheart, I'm okay. I just don't feel good, that's all. I'm kind of tired and I...I just feel like being lazy."

"Tired like from..." She looked at his hand.

"No, I don't think so," he said. "Mac, why does there have to be a huge, complicated reason behind it? I'm tired, period."

"You don't get this way," she insisted. "You have never, in 29 years, done this."

"I guess it's about time then, huh?" he asked nonchalantly as he took another bite of his toast.

Mac sighed and slid off the bed, "I guess so."

"Mac?" he said, seeing she was upset.

"Yes?" she asked and turned around.

"I'm okay," he said softly.

"I'm scared," she sighed. "You've never done this. I don't want you to be sick, but you nearly died the once remember when you didn't tell me about your stomach ache and your appendix burst. Even then, not once did you not get up."

"Sweetheart," he said. "I'm 66 years old now. Things that didn't stop me or make me tired before will do that now. It doesn't mean I'm sick, it just means I'm not as young as I used to be."

"So what is the thing making you tired?" she asked finally thinking she was getting somewhere.

He sighed. "Being 66, I guess. Maybe I'm sad about the kids; maybe it's that we're looking at giving up our house and moving closer to Mark and Jenna. I dunno."

"Can I do anything?" she asked. "I don't want to just leave you up here and be down there."

He smiled. "Come sit with me?"

Mac nodded, "I can for a bit," she replied and sat beside him on the bed. She watched him eat then when he was finished he slid back down in the bed.

He put his arms around her and nestled against her. "Have I told you lately how much I love you?"

"I think you said something like that last night," she replied. "Would you like me to rub your back? That might help you get back to sleep since you're tired."

"That'd be nice," he said, rolling onto his stomach.

Mac touched his back and began to rub in soft circles gently caressing his back through his pajama top. "Twelve days until Christmas," she sighed. "Mark is going to want an answer."

"Yeah," he said. "I think we should really think about doing it, you know? I think it'd probably be for the best."

"He wants us to move in with them," Mac reminded him. "Not near him."

Harm sighed. "I know. It'd be asking a lot of them, but I know they want to have us closer because they love us."

"He's you," Mac sighed.

Harm smiled. "He is. He really is."

Mac continued to rub Harm's back, especially his lower back, the part that hurt him sometimes, "Your back has been good lately," she smiled.

"Mmhmm, it has," he agreed, moving his shoulders in response to her work against his lower back.

"Need me to go up?" she asked.

"A little, yeah," he replied.

She slid her hands up and pressed against the middle of his back, "You going to stay in here all day?"

"With this kind of treatment," he said in a low, deep voice, "I just might."

"I just wanted to know because if you are, I'm going to wrap your gifts in a little bit," Mac whispered and raised her hands to his shoulder, finding a bit of a knot at the top of the left one and kneading it.

"Mmm...wrap away my dear," he said. "I won't stay here all day, just a bit longer, I promise."

"If you need to its okay," she soothed. "As long as I know you aren't sick."

"I'm not sick," he said reassuringly.

"Good," she replied and continued her rub.

Harm drifted off to sleep beneath his wife's loving caress, one of his most favorite ways to go.

**2053 ZULU**

Mac went downstairs and wrapped up Harm's gifts He slept for hours, nearly four by the time their phone rang. "Hello."

"Hi, Mom," Chris greeted. "I'm glad its you."

"How come?" she asked. "Something wrong?"

"No, no," he replied. "I just wanted to say hi to my mother that's all."

"You need to say more than 'hi' to me, son," she said sternly. "And you certainly need to say more than that to your father."

"What's the problem?" Chris asked.

"The problem is that Mark told us why you skipped out on coming for Thanksgiving," she said. "You can't handle seeing your dad when he's showing signs of his illness, and that hurts him so badly, Chris."

"He's still showing signs," Chris exclaimed. "Mom, he's not getting better. The hand is gone. That's it!"

"You don't know that for a fact!" she shot back, illustrating easily where Chris inherited his temper. "Regardless, he's your father and you're supposed to love and support him, not avoid him, not for this or anything else."

"I can't watch him Mom!" he shot back. "I can't watch him get like those people I take care of. I can't."

"The people you take care of have the worst kind of MS!" said Mac. "Your dad doesn't, and you need to be here for him."

"Why can't you respect my wishes here, Mom?" Chris asked. "I don't want to watch my Dad suffer."

"He's suffering from your absence a lot more than you're suffering from seeing him," she said gently.

"I doubt that, he has the others," Chris replied. "I'm not coming home for Christmas Mom."

"You listen to me, Christopher Sean Rabb!" Mac exclaimed. "Your father needs you here, needs all of his kids here, and unless you've got the best reason ever concocted by a child to get out of doing anything, but best be here! Am I clear?"

"He doesn't' need us every year," Chris argued back. He was stubborn like Harm.

Mac began to cry. "Chris, please?"

"Mom," he sighed. "Mom please don't cry. What do I have to do to make you not cry?"

"Come home for Christmas," she answered softly.

"I can't Mommy," he sighed, like he was when he was little and trying to learn to ride his bike.

"Please?" she asked. "It'd mean the world to your dad."

"Can I think about it?" Chris sighed. "Maybe he'll be better. But Mom, I don't think...and I know your legs aren't like the used to be."

"Think about it," she said with a sniffle. "Let me know soon, okay?"

"Okay," Chris replied. "I love you Mom."

"I love you, too. Call soon, okay?" she asked.

"I will," he replied and hung up the phone.

**2136 ZULU**

Mac stayed downstairs on the sofa and softly cried about the call. How could Chris not want to see his dad? Why was he making such an issue out of coming home for Christmas? Her heart ached as she sat alone, Harm still sleeping upstairs. Before long, the phone rang and startled her out of her sadness. Picking up the receiver, she looked at the id screen and smiled. "Hello, son," she said.

"Mom?" Mark's strong voice greeted her. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, it's your brother," said Mac. "He won't come see your dad because he's…Well, you know, you're the one who told me."

"I was afraid of that," Mac replied. "Still Chris is like you."

"I know," said Mac softly. "He's stubborn, that much is certain. I don't see how he can be stubborn about this, though. It's his father, you know?"

"I do know, and I have an idea. Do you trust me?" he asked.

"I do," she answered. "Anything you can think of that will help is welcome."

"Just leave it to me," he said firmly. "Stop your crying okay? Where's Dad?"

"Taking a nap," she said. "Actually, he's not taking a nap; he just hasn't gotten out of bed yet today."

"It's 430!" Mark exclaimed. "I'm coming over."

"Be my guest if you think it'll help," said Mac. "He claims he's just feeling lazy, but I'm not so sure."

'"I'm on my way," Mark told her and clicked off the his phone.

**December 14, 2029  
2339 ZULU**

Mark made his way through the foyer to the living room where Mac sat on the sofa. He went to her and hugged her, "Is Dad still sleeping? Have you checked on him?"

"I assume he's still sleeping," she said. "I haven't been back upstairs, but he hasn't come down, so I assume..."

"I'll go check," Mark said. "You try to stop crying." He reached into his pocket and wiped his mother's cheeks. "He'll be fine. So will Christmas, I promise."

"I hope so," she whispered, trying in vain to stifle another stream of tears.

"Mom, its okay," he comforted. "I'm here now. It's okay." He wrapped his arms around her and pulled close.

"I love you, son," she said. "Go check on your dad."

Mark squeezed her gently and jogged up the steps to his parents' room. Sure enough his father was still sleeping. He sat on the bed and gently shook him, "Dad? Dad?"

"Huh? What?" gasped Harm, unsure of who was waking him up and why.

"Dad?" Mark said getting slightly nervous. "Its Mark."

"Oh," he said, wiping his eyes. "Hi, son. Why...? Is your mom okay?"

"Mom is just fine," Mark assured him. "She's fine. But it is 642 pm and you are still in bed," he indicated. "She's scared."

"I was just tired today." said Harm plainly. "She's worried, I know, but she needn't be."

"Dad," Mark said firmly. "It is almost 7pm, you've been sleeping all day. That is not normal. Come on, let's go. Up. Now."

With a sigh, Harm threw his covers back. "Alright, I'm coming..."

"Get dressed, we're going to see the doctor," he told him in his Rabb tone.

"No, we're not because I'm not sick," said Harm.

"My mother is downstairs crying," Mark told him. "Remember her? Your wife? Who's crying! If you aren't sick, then I owe you dinner," Mark said. "Let's go."

"Has anyone ever told you you have your mother's hard head?" asked Harm as he rose from the bed.

"Yeah," Mark replied. "You. Now level with me Dad. Its me, I'm not going to tell her. Am I going to hear something I don't want to when we see the doctor?"

"Not unless I hear it, too," said Harm. "I'm fine, son."

"How's your hand?" Mark asked. "Is that worse?"

Harm held it up in front of himself and looked at it. "Doesn't seem to be, no."

"Get dressed," Mark told him. "I'm going to try to convince Mom to stay home."

"Good luck," said Harm sarcastically as he headed towards his closet.

Mark sprinted down the steps, "Mom?"

"Is he awake?" she asked in a concerned voice,

"He is now," Mark sighed. "We're going to the doctor. You are going to rest."

"I'm coming with you," she said, moving to rise from her seat.

"No, no," Mark said. "You are not. Remember, you both need to rest some and I know you've been worrying all day. I bet you have a headache right?"

Her son knew her so well. "I do. I'll stay, but I'd really rather go."

"I know," Mark soothed. "But how about this, you can rest a bit, and then fix us some supper and I'm going to stay the night, okay?"

She breathed a sigh of relief, feeling for the first time all day that things really were okay. "Sure, sweetie. You take care of your dad, and I'll have something nice ready when you get back."

Harm came down the stairs and spied his wife on the sofa. "Hey, sweetheart," he said. "You don't need to be worried, I promise."

"I'll believe that when you come back and are fine," she told him and rose to squeeze him tight.

He took her in his arms and held her near. "I love you, Mac."

"I love you too," she replied. "Go on."

"Ready?" he asked his son.

"Yeah," Harm replied. "Let's go."

**Mary Washington Hospital  
Fredericksburg, VA  
December 14, 2029  
0104 ZULU**

Mark took Harm to the ER where an old girlfriend of his worked. She took Harm back right away, "Good to see you, Mr. Rabb," she greeted. "Though not in the ER. What seems to be the trouble?"

"My wife and son think an old man who's tired has to be sick," joked Harm.

"How old are you now?" she asked. "Fifty-eight? Fifty-nine? That's not old."

"Try 66," said Harm. "But you just made my day!"

"Sixty six still isn't' that old, Mr. Rabb," she sighed. "Do you have any pre existing conditions?"

"I do," he said, matter-of-factly, sounding like he had all those years in the court room. "I have MS."

"What type?" she asked.

"Relapse-Remitting," he answered. "You know the 'good kind' to have."

"Not always I imagine," she smiled. "Is it in relapse?"

"Mildly, yes," he said, holding up his hand. "Little numbness, but nothing much."

"Do you have mobility?" she asked. "Squeeze both my hands."

Harm did as he was instructed. "Not bad for an old guy, huh?"

"Not at all, though the left is noticeably weaker," she sighed. "Let me take a listen here," she said and got out her stethoscope.

"I always hated this part," he said to his son, who was standing off to the side.

She listened to his heart and his lungs "Have you have a cold or the flu lately?"

"No," he said. "Been healthy as a horse."

"You have congestion in your lungs," she told him. "Let me get a chest X-ray."

She leaned down and pushed up his pant legs, "How long have your legs been swelling at the ankles?"

"I dunno, few weeks maybe," he said. "Is that bad?"

"Yes," she told him. "EKG and a chest X-ray. Now."

The doctor took blood, an X-ray, and EKG and a cardiogram, all the indicated the same thing. "I'd like you to come back in after Christmas for a stress test, but...I think I'm certain of why you've been so tired, and not just today, am I right?"

Harm looked at Mark, then back at the doctor. "Yeah."

"Mr. Rabb, there is no easy way to say this," she began. "And I'm only 99% on this, so you have to come back after the holiday, but I'm seeing from these tests all the signs that your body is going into heart failure."

He sat dumbfounded on the table. "Are...are you...no, you're not sure, you're only 99% sure, which is as good as 100% sure..." he rambled.

"Relax," she soothed. "It's treatable. It is early and it is treatable. I'm going to give you several prescriptions now that won't hurt you if I am wrong, but will help you if I'm right." She began to scribble. "For now, rest, drink plenty of water, and take this medication. If you can sleep with your legs elevated to reduce the swelling."

"I can, yes," he said, still not fully sure he believed the diagnosis.

"Here," she handed him the scripts. "This one is a water pill, it will reduce the congestion, this is a blood thinner, and this is for pain."

"Okay, thank you," he said, taking the papers from her. "I didn't...I'm not...I didn't know it was this bad."

"If you take this medicine, eliminate salty foods and table salt from your diet, and begin a light exercise regimen, it should resolve to a manageable state," she replied. "You should have come in sooner."

He sighed. "I'm stubborn, I guess. I thought I was just tired, really."

"That's okay," she comforted. "Its just good you came in now. I'll see you after the holidays."

Once they were alone, Harm looked his son in the eye. "Guess I owe you dinner, huh?"

"Don't worry about it," Mark sighed. "If you tell Mom we'll be even."

"I can't tell her this," he said. "I can tell her a lot of things, this isn't among them."

"Dad, this is going to be noticeable," Mark sighed. "The drugs alone, Mom is not stupid."

Harm laughed. "No, she's sure not. Ideas, son?"

"Tell her," he sighed as he steered Harm out of the ER to the car.

"How about," suggested Harm. "We tell her together, but after the new year?"

"Dad, no," Mark shook his head. "We have to tell her something. If you can come up with something that she would buy I might bend on that."

He thought for a moment. "The beginnings of the flu, maybe?"

"You'd have to get sicker," he sighed. "Nope. Fatigue related to your flare up?"

"Yeah, that should work," said Harm. "And I promise, after the new year, after we have all the results back, if it is what we think, then we'll tell her."

"Dad, do you...Catherine is the best doctor I know..." Mark began.

"Let's just wait," he said, his expression a broken one.

"Dad..." Mark pushed. "Come on...You can't do this. You've known for weeks haven't you?"

"No," he said.

"Dad?" Mark raised his eyebrow. "You can't not have noticed this."

Harm shrugged. "I've been tired, so what, you know? I'm old, old people get tired."

"The ankles?" he pressed.

"I wondered," he admitted.

"Okay," Mark relented. "Let's get back to Mom. But you have until the 6th to tell her, or I will."

"Agreed," said Harm. "And son?"

"Yeah, Dad," Mark said as he started the car.

"It'll all be okay. I promise."

"I know," Mark replied. "Let's go huh?"

**Home of Captain and Mrs. Harmon Rabb  
Dahlgren, VA  
December 14, 2029  
0325 ZULU**

Harm and Mark arrived home to find Mac sleeping peacefully on the sofa, the scent of her special tuna melts coming from the kitchen. With infinite tenderness, he leaned down to her and whispered against her cheek "I'm home, my love."

She was up immediately, "What did the doctor say?"

"That I'm fatigued from the flare up," said Harm. "I'm going to be fine though, just like I promised."

Mac smiled, "You rest more then. You stay in bed as much as you want and do whatever you need to do...I'll take care of everything."

Harm smiled to her, but to himself he thought "if only she could."

"Suppertime is long over but the food is ready and waiting. Then up to bed," she said rising neglecting her cane in favor of her husband's arm.

"It smells wonderful," he said as he walked with her towards the kitchen. "Wonderful as always."

The small family ate their late supper, and then Mark called Jenna and explained all that had happened while Mac took Harm up to bed. "Now what do you need?"

"Just my pajamas and a couple extra pillows," he said.

She got his pajamas, "Extra pillows?"

"Might help me get more comfy and sleep better," he said.

She got the pillows from the box, and once he was changed and in bed she asked, "Where do you want them?"

"Under my feet would be great, sweetie," he answered.

"Under your feet? Why there?" she asked doing it anyway. "Want your socks off?"

"No! No, that's okay," he said. "Feet are kind of cold tonight."

Mac nodded and settled the pillows, "Why there?" she asked again.

"Just think it might help is all," he said.

Mac took that for now, "You sleep. I'm gonna go check on Mark."

Mac went down to check on her son who was settling on the sofa bed, "Do you need anything, Sweetheart?" she asked him.

"No, I'm great, thanks Mom," he replied. "Did you get Dad all settled in?"

"Yeah," Mac sighed. "I'm still not sure he's as fine as he says he is. He wanted a pillow for his feet. He's never done that."

"You know dad," said Mark. "He can be different just for the sake of being different."

"I don't know," Mac sighed. "Is it me or does he seem weaker to you, not himself. Old, even?"

"I don't know," sighed Mark. "He's tired, that much is certain, and he's not as young as he used to be."

"This past month, Mark," Mac sighed. "But Daddy and I have some good news."

"Oh?" he asked. "Tell me."

"We've decided to take you and Jenna up on your offer," she told him. "We think its best."

He smiled wide. "That's great, Mom. We think its best, too; we really do."

"But I have to ask you a favor," she said.

"Okay, sure," he replied.

"Try not to undermine Daddy," Mac replied. "Please don't take away his independence. He needs his autonomy. He needs to be needed."

"He does, yes," agreed Mark. "We'll keep our distance where independence is concerned, I promise."

"Thank you, Son," Mac replied. "It might be nice for you and Jenna too. More time to spend together and work on more grandbabies for us to enjoy. Does she mind you staying here?"

"Not at all," he said. "She loves you two, she really loves you."

"And we love her," Mac smiled. "You get some sleep now." As she heard a "Mac!" from upstairs.

Mac kissed Mark's cheek and hurried to the best of her ability upstairs. Mac's name was called about six more times in the trek up, "What is it, Sweetie?" she asked when she got into the room and saw him curling up to avoid shivering.

"I'm freezing," he said. "Can you grab another couple of blankets, please?"

"Sure," Mac said softly and went to their hallway and got out three heavy blankets and brought them in. She covered him up with two of them, "How's that?" she asked laying them over him then easing them up to his chin.

"Oh." he sighed. "So much better, thank you, sweetheart."

"You want me to leave the third one on the foot of the bed here?" she asked.

"That'd be great," he said softly. "You should get to bed, you look sleepy."

"I'm coming," Mac replied and slid in beside him. She reached for his hand, "Your fingers are so cold."

"They'll warm up," he said, gently squeezing her hand. "Mark sprawled out on the sofa bed?"

"Yes, he's good. I told him we'll move in with him and Jenna," she replied. "Come here, lay against me."

He slid closer to her. "Better?"

"Yes," she whispered. "Put your head on my chest and just snuggle in close."

"I love sleeping like this," he said as he nestled right against her. "Seems we've been like this as long as I can remember."

Mac stroked his hair gently, "Its okay." She gently stroked his his hair, "Go to sleep. I'm here and you're warm and safe. If you need anything, you wake me up, okay?"

He nodded. "I love you, Mac. I love you so much."

Those were the last words he said, before he fell into a peaceful sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Merry Christmas! Happy New Year! Happy Holiday to all! Here is the final chapter of A Season for Love. There will be an epilouge, but this is the final part of the body of the story. We thank you all, readers, reviewers from the bottom of our hearts. God bless, Snugglebug and She'sAShipper.

**Home of Christopher Rabb  
Fredericksburg, VA  
December 18, 2029****  
1809 ZULU**

In a small Fredericksburg apartment, Christopher Rabb was eating a pizza out of the box when his phone rang.

"This is Chris," he said, chewing as he spoke.

"Chris, how many times did Mom tell you not to answer the phone with your mouth full?" Mark scolded. "By the way, it's your brother."

"I figured," he said, swallowing the bite in his mouth and taking another just for spite. "What's up?"

"Mom and Dad want you to come home for Christmas," Mark told him. "And I have a plan to make this Dad's best Christmas since a really long time."

"Mom and I already had this talk" said Chris. "I'm not coming; I don't want to see him like that, Mark. I just don't."

"You want to see Dad again ever?" Mark asked him.

"Is dad dying?" asked Chris in a sudden panic.

"Not today," Mark replied. "And Mom doesn't know a thing about this."

"What's going on, Mark?" asked Chris, abandoning his pizza in order to pay full attention.

"Dad was diagnosed as being in heart failure a few days ago," Mark replied. "It could be okay, he could be just fine...but he might not be and this is an unpredictable condition."

Chris flopped down into his satellite chair in front of his television, and stared at the blank screen. "Whoa."

"I can't do this Chris," Mark sighed. "I had to go over there and calm Mom down and get Dad out of bed to the doctors' and I can't do this by myself. I live four hours away, you are an hour. Shelby is out of the country, Nikki is a girl and I can't do this. I'm not Dad!"

"But you are," said Chris, his tone nothing but encouraging. "You're so much like dad it's scary. I'm nothing like him, but you...you look like him and think and sound like him. If anyone can handle this, it's you, Mark. I'll do what I can, I'll try to anyway, but not because I think you can't do it."

"Okay, then I need you to be home on Christmas," Mark sighed. "We're all getting older having our own lives and with the diagnosis so close to Christmas, and his MS in relapse and he's worried about Mom, you need to be there on Christmas. Please."

There was a long silence. "I...I just can't. I can't." His voice softened and cracked.

"Why not?" Mark pushed. "Talk to me. It's me, your big brother."

"I hate this," said Chris. "I hate that I even have to think about whether or not I can go home for Christmas and see my sick father. I hate it."

"So do I, but more so I hate that you have to think about seeing your sick father," Mark replied. "You should think about seeing your father."

"I wish I could separate the two," said Chris. "You can, and you do it so well, but I can't seem to do it. What's your secret?"

"Its simple," Mark sighed. "You see a person with an illness and I see a person that didn't care if I had an illness. That didn't care when I broke my nose and coated his dress whites in blood, who didn't care when I got drunk and cracked up the Vette we just fixed up. I see the person who loved us no matter what, that's the man who wants us with him for the holidays."

"I wanna be there, Mark," said Chris. "I do, I just don't think I can handle it, and that makes me feel terrible, but it's just the way it is. You must think I'm the worst son and brother ever, huh?"

"No," Mark replied. "But okay, here's a deal. You come with us Christmas Eve; I want us all to surprise Dad when he gets home from the Wall. If being there for some eggnog, carols, Mom's gingerbread, and the Night Before Christmas, bothers you, you don't have to come Christmas Day." Mark's tone was firm.

Another long silence. "Okay. You win, I'll go on the 24th, but don't count on seeing me the next morning. I don't think I can manage it two days in a row."

"Good then call Dad, not Mom, and tell him you aren't coming home at all on Christmas," Mark told him.

"Won't that upset him?" asked Chris.

"Yes it will," Mark replied. "But it will only add to his joy when all of us are in the living room Christmas Eve when he and Mom get back from the wall."

"I see..." said Chris, a smile gracing his face as his brother's plan sunk in."Okay, I'll call him soon, and I know, not a word to Mom."

"She doesn't know about his heart, it will crush her," Mark warned.

"Understood," said Chris. "You know, it's really great of you to do this for them. I'm being a self-centered jerk, but you're not. That's really something special, and I hope you know that."

"I get that from him," Mark sighed. "See you in a week."

"I'll be there," he said. "I promise."

**Home of Captain and Mrs. Harmon Rabb  
Dahlgren, VA  
December 18, 2029  
2129 ZULU**

Harm had spent over an hour working on wrapping Mac's gifts. It was a challenge for him with only one completely cooperative hand, but he was determined to get it done no matter how long it took. He'd managed to get the books wrapped without much difficulty, same with the new handbag, but the porcelain doll was a different story.

It was gorgeous; 18 inches tall and dressed in pale green with curly brunette locks spilling out from beneath a feathery hat. Mac had seen her in the window of a little collectibles shop downtown in the early Fall, and had commented on how pretty she was. She'd also said she always wanted a doll like that when she was a little girl, something delicate and beautiful, but never got one. At that moment, Harm knew what one of the Christmas gifts would be.

"Harm!" Mac called. "Harm, honey, are you down here?" she asked descending to the basement.

"Don't come down!" he called up. "I'm wrapping your presents!"

"I'm all ready down," she said and turned the corner. "And since when did wrapping on my presents mean anything?" she asked.

"Since I've spent over an hour doing it," he answered with a little smile.

Mac laughed, "Don't tell me you've forgotten old man?"

"Oh, no" he laughed. "No, there may be things I've forgotten, but that's not one of them."

**December 25, 2006  
1409 ZULU**

Mac, Harm and their kids, 5 year olds Mark and Nikki and two year old Shelby sat in front of their tree and opened their gifts. The children had since opened all of theirs and sat playing amidst the wrapping paper. Harm and Mac had opened the gifts from their children, but now worked on the ones they'd given to each other. Mac had opened all of hers and Harm was wondering if he'd forgotten the pair of jeans he'd bought her and hid with the rest of he gifts. He had one package left and gingerly worked on opening the paper. Inside the wrapping were the jeans he'd bought Mac, with a note in her hand "These do not fit. Please buy the next size, Love, Your Wife."

He looked up at her, eyes big as saucers. "What's the meaning of this?"

"Oh, I found those in the hall closet last week. I tried them on and they don't fit," she said matter of factly.

"Tried them on?" he asked. "Mac, they were wrapped!"

"I know," she sighed. "They were for me, right? Unless you address someone else as Mrs. Claus."

"Mac!" he said. "They...they were wrapped! For crying out loud!"

She bit her lip, "Are you mad?"

He sat in stunned silence for a few moments. "I'm...I'm not mad, but I can't believe you did that!"

She leaned over and placed a sensual kiss on his lips, "I do a lot of things you can't believe. But you love me anyway."

He took a deep breath. "I do, yes. I'm really not happy about this, though. I wanted it to be a surprise."

"Its jeans Harm," Mac sighed. "I told you I wanted them and what size two months ago. No harm done."

"Still," he said. "It's not nice to ruin a surprise, no matter how big or small."

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "Kiss and make up?"

He smiled just a touch and leaned in for a kiss. "Next year..." he said, pointing a finger at her in loving jest. "Next year..."

**December 18, 2029  
2114 ZULU**

"And I did," he said. "I got you so good that next year."

"I know," Mac laughed. "A box of charcoal and nothing else for two whole days! You were in such trouble," she laughed.

"It was worth it," he replied, eyes shining as he spoke. "The look on your face when you opened that box...I've never seen anything that funny since."

"Me neither," Mac replied. "I came to see what you wanted to eat for dinner."

He thought for a moment. "Spaghetti?"

"Just spaghetti?" she asked.

"Spaghetti and a salad, maybe?" he offered.

"Okay," Mac smiled. "It'll be ready in a few. I love you."

Harm finally managed to get the doll wrapped, and he made his way upstairs for dinner. As he closed the basement door behind himself, Mac was standing in front of the stove stirring the sauce. Nothing special or extravagant about what she was doing, but she looked so beautiful doing it. He saw her as beautiful as the day they'd fallen in love; time had done nothing to diminish that in his eyes.

"Hey," he said softly as he stood back and stared at her.

"Hi," Mac said turned to look over her shoulder. "Harm, what's wrong?"

He didn't answer her; instead he walked towards her and took her hand.

"Harm, Harm, what's wrong, what are you doing?" she asked, straining back to turn off the jet under the sauce and water.

Still, he remained silent, leading her gently towards the stairs.

Taking his time, retaining his hold on her hand, he led the way to their bedroom, all the while silent. She questioned him, and his only answer came in the form of a tender kiss as he gently eased her onto the bed.

"Harm, what are you doing?" she asked as he leaned down over her.

He looked directly at her. "You look as beautiful to me now as you did the first time I laid eyes on you."

"Your eyesight must be going," she teased. "Seriously, in the middle of the day?"

"Since when does the clock have anything to do with this?" he asked with a smile,

"Since we've turned fifty," she replied.

"Well, to me age doesn't matter," he said as he went in for another kiss.

Mac stopped her talking and leaned into his kiss, opening her lips underneath his and letting him deepen the kiss.

"I love you so much," he whispered, breaking the kiss just long enough to get those few words out.

"I love you too," Mac replied letting her hands roam his broad back, before coming around to undo his shirt and slip it off his shoulder. "Oh...Oh..." She moaned as his lips traveled behind her earlobe.

She could still give him goose bumps with her little ooh's and aah's; she always could. He moved from behind her earlobe to the nape of her neck, another place he knew she loved attention.

Mac shuttered as he worked on that part of her body and moved her own lips to work on that part of his chest that was directly above her mouth. She nibbled on the skin there.

He took in a sharp breath at the feeling. "I like that," he said softly.

"I know," Mac replied. "Can you touch me where I like it?" she asked.

Always one to oblige, he ran his hands over her breasts, taking time and care as he'd always done. After a couple moments, he made short work of her clothing before joining their bodies as one.

Once their bodies were joined and they moved in a rhythm long established by love and tenderness Mac with her husband still inside her began to cry.

"Hey, hey," he said softly. "You okay?"

She nodded swallowing the lump in her throat, "It's just that I've been so worried about you and..."

"Oh, sweetheart," he soothed, touching her cheek. "I'm okay, I am."

"It's just, you've been so weak and tired and sleeping so much," she sniffled. "And this is so nice. So nice."

"Then let's not ruin it by being sad, okay," he whispered. "I'm okay and you're okay, let's just be here and be in love."

"I'm not sad," Mac whimpered. "I'm so happy you seem to be you again. I'm not crying because I'm sad. I'm not."

"But are you happy?" he asked, wiping a tear from her cheek.

She nodded, "I'm so happy," she whispered. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he replied, kissing her lips ever-so-softly.

They lay together snuggled up until Mac dozed off to sleep.

**December 18, 2029  
2348 ZULU**

Harm left her there, burrowed beneath the blankets, and he got up to go finish with dinner so it would be ready when she awakened. As he reached the kitchen, the phone rang.

"Hello, son," he said after picking up the receiver and seeing the name on the display.

"Hi, Dad," Chris said hesitantly. "How are you?"

"Good, good," answered Harm. "Just finishing making dinner while your mom rests a bit."

"Mom is resting?" Chris asked. "Is she sick?"

"No, no, she's fine," he said. "Just a little sleepy is all; she gets that way sometimes in the evening. How are you?"

"Good um, I'm calling about uh, Christmas," Chris said.

"Oh yeah?" asked Harm.

"Yeah, I um, I'm not going to be able to make it," he said softly.

Harm's heart fell into his stomach. "Wh...What do you mean you can't make it?"

"I, um, I can't do it," he replied. "I promised to work at the hospice. Many of the guys have families and I don't so..."

"You have a family, Chris," said Harm, his voice low and sad. "A wife and children aren't the only definition of family."

"I know, but Christmas is really for the kids," he replied. "I hope you understand."

"No, I don't understand!" exclaimed Harm. "I don't understand why my kids don't want to spend the Holidays - Thanksgiving or Christmas - with their parents anymore! It's me isn't it?"

"Dad, no," Chris said. "Don't get all excited. It's bad for you're..." He caught himself. Mark would kill him.

"I'm not excited," defended Harm. "I'm hurt and I'm upset!"

"I'm not doing it to hurt you," Chris argued back, his father's mood getting his goat.

Harm calmed considerably from that point on. "Look, son," he said. "I...I know the hurt isn't intentional, but its there anyway and I just wish I could have all my kids together for Christmas, that's all."

"Well, I suggest then you talk to some of the other kids," Chris told him. "Mark isn't coming either. Neither is Shelby."

Harm fought back the urge to cry. "I see."

"And I'm not so sure about Nikki either," he replied. "She might be going to London to see Shelby."

Harm took a steadying breath. "Well, if she is, I guess Mom and I can have another quiet day. That'll be okay; we'll be okay."

"Yeah, you will," Chris replied smiling to himself. "Well, I have to get going. I have to be at work."

"That's okay, sure," said Harm. "Thanks for calling, son. I'm...I'm glad you did."

"Well, Merry Christmas," Chris said, then hung up the phone.

Harm sighed, and went to the living room to sit for awhile in his chair. He felt like all the joy of the season was gone, and he missed the jubilation he once knew when it came to anticipating Christmas day. None of his kids would be there this year, and while Thanksgiving had been nice in its own way, he'd been looking forward to Christmas with everyone, and now that had been taken away.

Mac woke from her nap and made her way downstairs, she saw Harm sitting in his chair and came over to him, "You look like someone took your balloon."

"They're not coming," he said softly.

"What's not coming?" she asked.

"Our kids," he said, his voice cracking as he spoke. "They're not coming."

"Not..." Mac gasped. "Are you sure?"

Harm broke down and sobbed for just a moment, then pulled himself together. "Chris called; he said no one is coming."

Mac instead of putting her arms around him, was overcome with anger, "I'll be right back. You just rest there," she told him and moved off to the phone.

He watched her walk away as his pain once again brought tears.

Mac lifted the phone receiver and dialed her son's number, but not Chris'. Mark's.

"Hello," Mark said when he heard his phone.

"I thought we had an understanding!" she said. "I thought you knew how important it was for everyone to be here for Christmas!"

"Mom, Mom, calm down," Mark urged. "Calm down."

"Do you have any idea how upset your father is right now?" she asked.

"Not really, Dad is a puzzle," he replied.

"Well, that 'puzzle' is missing a piece right out of the center of his heart right now!" said Mac. "Chris called and told him none of you are coming home, and he's crushed."

"I know Mom," Mark sighed. "Will you calm down please?"

"I'm trying," she said, taking a deep breath. "What do you have to say about this?"

"I have it all planned out," he told her. "We, the other kids and I, we will be there for Christmas Eve, only about two hours ahead of the usual time while you and Daddy are at the Wall."

"I'm listening," she said.

"It's a surprise, we're going to tell him we can't come then show up and be sitting all around the tree when you and Dad get back. Cookies, hot cocoa, everything all ready," Mark explained. "We want to boost his spirits and Dad loves surprises."

Mac smiled. "He does. I'm sorry I was so worried; I should have known you were behind something like this."

"How bad is he?" Mark asked feeling a pang of sharp guilt.

"Pretty bad," she admitted. "But knowing what you're all up to, I can soothe the hurt fairly well. This is a really special thing to do, son. I'm proud of you, of all of you."

"Thanks Mom," Mark said, then worrying about his father's heart he said, "Mom, make him lie down okay?"

"I will, sweetie," she said. "And I love you, too."

Mark hung up and Mac made her way back to Harm who was still battling with tears.

"It's all right Sweetheart," Mac soothed and sat down on his knee. "It's all right."

"I wish they were coming," he said as he wiped away a tear.

"So do I," Mac whispered. "But we'll have a nice romantic day, just you and I."

"But Christmas is supposed to be about family" he said sadly. "I miss the way it used to be. I don't feel very well right now."

"What's wrong?" she asked with concern. "Tell me."

"I'm kind of tired," he said. "I think I'll rest a little while; dinner will keep for a bit, right?"

"Sure," Mac replied. "Are you sure you're just tired? You seem a bit winded."

He was winded, he just hadn't noticed. "The crying, I suppose."

Mac nodded, "Let me take you up okay?" she asked worried taking his cold hand. "Your hands are cold."

"It's December," he said. "They're supposed to be cold."

Mac nodded, "Come on now," she said leading him up the steps. "Let's get up in a warm bed."

"I'll be okay, Mac" he said gently. "I'm sad right now, but I'll be okay."

She was quiet until they got him upstairs. It was all he could do to hide his breathlessness.

"I've got it from here, my love," he said as he climbed slowly into the bed.

"No, no," Mac shook her head. "You tell me what will make you comfortable."

"Just my pillows and blankets," he answered his voice weak.

"Harm, are you sure you're all right?" she asked.

"Yeah," he replied, eyes already closed.

Mac fussed with his blankets and pillows, hearing his breathing. She shook her head and returned to the kitchen.

Harm's health stayed at its poor level for a few days, until one morning when Mac's knee pain was so bad she could barely get out of bed. It was the day before Christmas Eve. Harm noticed her groan when she stirred.

For the remainder of the day, he did get up and help her and tend to her and realized that if he paced himself he'd be just fine. It was only when he pushed or got too excited he had a problem. Before they knew it, that day was over, and it was Christmas Eve.

**December 24, 2029  
2143 ZULU**

"That looks amazing," said Harm as he leaned over Mac's shoulder while she cooked.

"It's your recipe," she replied. "And I made gingerbread too."

"I thought I smelled gingerbread," he said with a huge smile.

"Yep," Mac replied. "Grandma Sarah's recipe."

"I've had that every Christmas for as long as I can remember," he said. "Same goes for our kids; you've been making it since the twins were old enough to make a mess with it all over their high chairs."

"Mark used to only eat the heads," Mac laughed. "You ready to go to the Wall soon? Or you not up to it?"

"I'm up to it," he assured her. "We'll go right after dinner."

Mac turned around and held him close, "I love you...So much. So, so much."

"And I love you, too" he said, kissing the top of her head.

They sat down, just the two of them, to a quiet and simple dinner at the kitchen table. Usually their Christmas Eve meal was eaten at the dining room table with all the extra leaves added on to make room for their precious family. This year, there was no need. They made idle conversation, Mac knowing Harm was hurting, but also knowing things were about to take a very big turn for the better. The kids would be there when they returned from The Wall, and she couldn't wait to see the look on her husband's face when he saw them

They spent some time at the Wall, Harm talked to his father then taking Mac's hand they walked back to the car and drove the long ride home.

**December 25, 2029  
0151 ZULU**

Their house was dark when they pulled up and Harm sighed, "Ready for bed, Mrs. Rabb?" he asked nuzzling her neck.

"Oh, not just yet," she said. "I'm ready for some of that gingerbread."

Mac slipped the key in the lock and hit the light switch on the side next to the door. "Surprise!" the Rabb children exclaimed as Jimmy and Johnny bounded for their beloved "Gampa."

Harm was speechless. His mouth hung open as he took in the scene around him.

Mark and Jenna standing arm in arm near the tree, Nikki and Shelby in the kitchen pouring eggnog into cups, Chris hiding a bit off to the side with Phil and his little grandsons at his feet. On his chair sat their old worn copy of "Twas the Night Before Christmas" a book that Mac's Uncle Matt had given them when the twins were young.

He turned to his wife. "You knew about this, didn't you?"

"Not at first, but I called and Mark had set it all up," she replied and beamed at their oldest son.

Harm looked as well in Mark's direction. "I should have known," he said. "I should have known."

Mark walked up to his father and hugged him tight, "Merry Christmas, Dad."

Harm held his son tight, knowing he wasn't a child anymore, but also knowing he'd always be his child. "This is so great," he whispered. "It's so great."

Jimmy and Johnny were tired of being ignored by their beloved "Gampa", so they both let their displeasure be known in the form of loud wails.

"Oh, hey now," said Harm, releasing his embrace around Mark and kneeling down to hug the little boys. "See, I didn't forget about you two."

In his embrace they quieted immediately snuggling until Mac drew their attention with two gingerbread cookies. That gave Nikki her chance, "Merry Christmas, Daddy."

"Merry Christmas, Nik," he said, remembering the first time he held her in his arms, how happy he'd been; how proud. She's become an amazingly beautiful young woman, looking every bit the picture of so many Rabb women before her.

Shelby came next, the only one to favor his mom, with dark eyes, hair and skin, "Hello, Dad."

Harm pulled his close. "I've missed you, son. I've really missed you."

"I missed you too," he replied. "Both of you."

"I don't know how you got here" said Harm, beaming with happiness. "I'm sure glad you did, though."

"I flew in and Chris got me," Shelby looked at the reluctant brother who shyly and remorsefully stepped over. He didn't say anything, just bit his lip and hugged Harm with such force he tottered a bit until he brought his arms around his youngest in a soft paternal way.

"I'm sorry, Dad," Chris whispered softly against his father's chest.

"You had me going, son," he said. "If medicine hadn't worked out, you could've made it in the theatre."

"Not about that," Chris sighed. "Not about that."

In that instant, Harm realized that Chris knew about the news from the doctor, and that he was keeping it to himself, just as Mark had asked. Tightening his hold around the younger man's shoulders, Harm stood silently, knowing that what was on his heart and mind was being understood without a single spoken word.

"I love you, Dad," he told him pulling back. "So how about we eat and tear into those gifts?"

Harm could only nod, knowing if he tried to speak, he'd dissolve into tears.

Seeing how emotional his father was going to be very shortly, Chris motioned for the family to all go into the living room. He was touched that the surprise had been so spectacular; the look on his father's face was priceless, though not half as priceless as the joy everyone knew was in his heart.

Mac swept in to rescue her son, "Isn't it wonderful, Sweetheart. We're sorry for the pain you've been through but I think the glow on your face is worth it."

"I don't believe it," beamed Harm. "I thought no one was coming, and here they are, all of them..."

"How about you go sit in your chair and relax, Dad," Mark told him. "We all have some gifts we want you to have."

With his smile still at full wattage, Harm sat down in his chair. "I don't need gifts; having my kids and grandkids here is more than enough of a gift, you know?"

"Well we got some anyway, Jimmy, Johnny, get Grandpa his presents," Mark instructed. Jimmy obeyed but Johnny hid behind Jenna and didn't move.

"Hey sport," said Harm, peeking around Jenna to look at the tyke. "Come help Grandpa open his presents, okay?"

Johnny slowly peaked out around his mom's legs and then toddled towards Harm and nuzzled on his leg. Too many people for the shier twin.

Harm picked Johnny up and held in on his lap. "Let's see what's in here," he said as Jimmy dragged a package over and left it at Harm's feet.

Johnny reached down and pulled the bow off the top of the box, and then to everyone's surprise started in on the paper. Within moments, he had the wrapping undone, and looked to his Grandpa to lift off the lid.

Harm lifted the lid and inside was a fairly good sized throw blanket with a computer imposed image of Jimmy and Johnny's Christmas photograph. Jimmy pointed to his image and announced, "Jimmy!"

"That's right!" exclaimed Harm, holding the blanket up for all to see. "This is great," he said to Mark and Jenna. "I'll cherish it forever, it's just...wow..."

"Where's mine?" Mac asked with a laugh.

"Coming up," said Mark, motioning to Jimmy to get his grandma's gift from beneath the tree. He knew which one it was, the red bag with the big white ribbon on it, and he carefully brought it to Mac.

"Wonder what's in there?" asked Harm to Johnny, still sitting in his lap.

Mac worked on the tissue paper and unearthed a pretty Lenox picture frame with her grandson's picture in it as well as a glass tree ornament that said Grandma Sarah 2026 Jimmy and Johnny and had one of their Santa pictures on it. "I love it," she smiled.

The family spent the next half an hour opening gifts to and from one another. There were sweaters and ties, books and movies, cookies and candy; the usual Christmas fare. After the commotion had settled once more, it was Nikki's turn to give Harm a gift.

"Here you go, Daddy," she said, handing him a small box with a pale green bow on top.

"Thank you, Nik," he said, taking the box and carefully removing the ribbon. "This is pretty small, I have no idea what it might be."

"Just open it," she urged and reached for Phil's hand, tearing up as she watched her father open the gift and pull out the tiny photograph.

He stared at it intently before looking up with watery eyes. "I haven't seen one of these in ages," he said. "But I'll never forget the feeling."

"Daddy," Nikki said softly. "That's your grandchild."

He nodded gently. "I know, sweetheart. No gift could be more precious. I'm so happy for you both."

Nikki stepped forward and hugged her father, "I love you Daddy, and Phil and I have decided if this baby is a boy, we'd like to name him Harmon."

His smile lit up the room more than the tree and the candles put together. "That means a lot, more than you could ever know."

"We love you, Daddy," Nikki told him. "Now," she sighed. "I'm going to help Mom get everyone cocoa and cookies then you can read to us. The book is there," she pointed.

With refreshments in hand, everyone gathered around Harm's chair as he read "Twas the Night Before Christmas", the same story he'd been reading to them since they were babies. The little ones sat in awe as the older ones sat close and snuggled, Harm's deep soothing voice telling the age old tale. When he finished, the family migrated to the kitchen for more of Mac's special gingerbread and some hot apple cider, all except for Harm and his eldest son.

"I feel good" he said. "Today was...I can't even put it into words. There's something we have to think about, though, given..."

Mark nodded, "Just tell me."

Harm took a deep breath. "This, you know, this might be my last Christmas, and I want to take a moment and talk to you about it, about carrying on for me."

"Dad, I don't want to talk about this," Mark said. "You can be treated...You'll be fine."

"Mark, we have to talk about it," he said gently. "I need to know that you understand how important it is for me that the family traditions remain intact after I'm gone."

"I do," Mark replied. "I know...and I'll do it for you, but Dad please don't talk this way. It's Christmas Eve."

"I know," he said. "But I need for you to have something." He reached around to the Christmas tree and pulled down an ornament. "Here, this belongs to you, son."

"What is...Dad, this is the ornament Grandpa Harmon gave you before..." Mark paused and swallowed. "I can't accept this."

"Please, Mark?" asked Harm softly. "I know you don't want me getting all morbid like this on Christmas Eve, but I honestly can't think of a better time for me to give this to you, to pass along the torch. Your grandfather went missing on this night so many years ago, and that makes it mean even more; makes tonight even more poignant in our family's history. Tonight's the night I need to give you this."

With one lone tear escaping, Mark took the snowman and put it in his bag, He rose and moved to embrace his father, "I'll do you proud Dad."

"You always have," said Harm, matching his son's tear with one of his own. "You always have"


	8. Epilouge

A/N: Thank you all for reading not only this but our other works. We know that it seems that our stories are filled with hard times, and we admit they are, because they deal with real life situations. We have found this though, love is easy to give when everything is coming up roses, it is during the hard times, that we see who truly loves us and that is a lesson we try to bring out in our pieces. So please enjoy this, our last installment of this piece. Your reviews are appreciated.

**Fifteen years later**

**Home of Mr. and Mrs. Mark Rabb  
Baltimore, MD  
December 25, 2044  
0544 ZULU**

Mark sat in his robe, face lit only by the dim firelight and the lights on the tree. He and Jenna had used his Mom's candle lights this year making a beautiful old fashioned tree. In his hand he held the old snowman ornament that his father had given him fifteen years ago.

Mac was restless that morning, and slowly got out of bed. Leaning heavily on her cane she was now dependent on for walking she slowly walked to the long staircase. One by one she descended the steps pausing when...no it couldn't be. Sitting in Harm's old chair, in front of the fire was...no, no it couldn't be.

She thought back to a time long ago, a time when every morning would all but guarantee the same sight as she descended down the stairs. Harm would be wearing his robe and sitting in that chair, sometimes reading the paper, sometimes deeply lost in thought, but always sitting in that chair. Mark looked so much like his father had at that age, so much like him. For those fleeting moments, Mac would've sworn it was her beloved husband, once again in his chair.

Mark heard his mother's soft footfalls and turned to see her at the edge of the staircase. When the firelight hit his amazing blue eyes, she covered her mouth to stifle a heart breaking sob.

Mark rose and quickly went to his mother's side, "Mom, Mom, its okay, I'm here," he said softly, gently, taking his 76 year old mother into his strong arms.

"I miss him," she whispered very softly.

"I know, Mom. I know, I miss him too. Come sit down," he said gently and just as gently led her to his father's chair. Mac refused to sit in it.

"I can't," she cried, shaking her head. "Not yet, I just can't."

"Okay, okay," he said and eased her onto the sofa, automatically moving to get a pillow for her back. He eased her back and covered her thin legs with a blanket. "There you go. How's that?"

"Good," she said, her tears beginning to slow. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. You just, you looked so much like him sitting there like that, you know? You've always been the picture of your dad and granddad."

"Two strong men," Mark sighed. "I can't ask for more. I'm glad you brought his chair when you two moved in, even if none of us sat in it for the last year until I did just now. It still smells like him."

She nodded. "I loved that cologne he always wore. Something about it, I just loved it." Her chin began to quiver again.

Mark reached out and touched his mother's tears, "Dad wouldn't want us to be sad, Mom. He's hate it if he saw you crying on Christmas."

"What makes you think that?" asked Mac, raising her voice a bit. "He knew this year, this Christmas would be sad. He knew!"

Mark began to rub her back gently, "Mom, Mom, ssh...Ssh, this is not good for your health. Remember what the doctors said," he soothed. "Calm down...Its all all right."

She sobbed a few times, and then took a deep breath. "I don't know what I'd do without you, you and the others. I just miss your dad so much."

"Mom, Dad...he...that last year or so...He wasn't happy. He didn't want to live like that," Mark tried to soothe. "He didn't want you to live like that."

"I know," she said quietly, reaching out for her son's hand. "He did so well for so long, though."

Mark nodded, "He did. He did so well, but once his heart really started to fail, he couldn't fight both fights, he lost them both. But he was stubborn right up until the end. Remember?"

She smiled just a touch. "He was so many things; a quitter was never among them."

"He loved Christmas," Mark sighed.

"He didn't want it to be sad for the kids, or for me," Mac sighed. "I still can't believe it. He hadn't been up for days but Christmas morning, when I woke him…"

**December 25, 2043  
1248 ZULU**

Mac rose from the bed she shared with her long time husband, showered, dressed, and then went to wake him so she might feed him his breakfast if he could even take any this morning and give him his medications before she went down to have Christmas with her children and grandchildren. She woke him as she did every morning, with a kiss, "Harm?" A soft kiss on this worn cheek. "Honey, wake up."

Harm lay in the bed he'd shared with Mac at Mark's home for the last fourteen years, covered with many blankets and quilts. His back was propped up with fluffy pillows, swollen legs elevated on more pillows. Mac would sleep by his side every night and days she sat in an easy chair by his bed, his right hand in hers. He held it lightly, unable to do more with it that that. He slept around the clock now, like an infant, he'd sleep, he'd wake, and he'd sleep, with no regard for the time of day. It had been days since he'd been strong enough to swallow more than a few sips of water, and at times he appeared sad, confused, and distracted. Still Mac sat by his side, holding his hand, chatting and talking, and rejoicing in the times, like now, when he'd know her and answer her. His speech was hampered by his shallow, fast, and sometimes painful breaths, but there moments with her were to precious to waste.

He slowly, painfully opened his eyes, blinking a few times as he woke up. "Morning," he whispered.

"Merry Christmas," Mac whispered. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Mmm..." he replied. "Tired."

"I know," she soothed. "How about some breakfast and then you can nap?"

"What's today?" he asked wearily.

"It's Christmas," Mac replied. "December 25th."

His heavy eyes became brighter than they had in ages. "Thought so!" he exclaimed, as much as he could exclaim given how sick he was. "Kids?"

"Most are probably still in bed, I woke you early so I can go and watch them open gifts, that is if you don't mind," she queried softly.

"No...no," he said, shaking his head a little. "Don't mind. Sounds...great, sweetheart. Can I go?"

"Oh, Harm," Mac sighed. "I don't know...you're so weak...And I don't know how you'd get downstairs," she fretted.

"Mark can help," he said softly, pleading at her with his eyes.

"Honey, I...there's no way you can walk," she sighed. "James and John will have to help too."

Harm smiled at the mention of his grandsons, who were near mirror images of each other and looking very much like their father had at that age. "They will," he said quietly. "Please, Mac?"

She relented, "Okay. I'll get Mark."

His smile grew wider still. "Thanks."

Mark and his sons managed to get Harm down the stairs, but once settled in his wheelchair, he seemed uneasy. "What's wrong?" Mac asked.

"Blanket?" he asked, looking her in the eye.

"You want a blanket?" she asked.

"Mine," he said as a coughing fit came over him.

Mac moved in to handle the cough fit, rubbing his back and suctioning his mouth. "Johnny, please?" she asked. Her grandson knew just what his Grandpa meant. He wanted the old worn, throw they'd given him 14 years ago.

Within 2 minutes, the young man returned with the blanket. "Here, Grandpa" he said, laying it over Harm.

Harm had just calmed from his coughing fit and Mac was lovingly holding and oxygen mask over his lips. Johnny set the blanket on his grandfather's legs, "Let's get some presents opened huh?" he suggested to his younger sister, Mark's youngest five year old Michele who was sad at seeing Harm so sick.

Michele ran to the tree and grabbed a package. "Here Grandpa," she said, running back to him with a box wrapped in shiny green paper. She'd just learned to read, but she knew that box was for her beloved Grandpa. She held it up for him to take, but he was too weak.

He looked at Mac, eyes conveying the need for help.

"I'll help you," said Johnny, rising from his seat on the sofa and moving towards his grandfather. He took the box from Michelle, and standing as close to Harm's chair as he could, he began tearing off the paper just as he'd done when he was little enough to sit on Harm's lap. He started a corner, and held the box down for Harm to tear more of the paper off, a task he was able to partially accomplish.

Finally the task was completed and Johnny lifted the lid off the box to reveal to Harm's failing eyesight a beautifully framed family portrait of not just Mark's family, but of all the Rabb children and their spouses and children.

"Wow," gasped Harm, unable to think of any better word for the gift before him. He couldn't see it very well, but he knew so well what his loved ones looked like, what little he could see clearly made him smile.

"Do you like it?" Michele asked. "It was my idea!"

"Love it," he said. "Thank...you, baby." He motioned for Johnny to lift her up so he could give her a tiny kiss.

The rest of the gifts were opened and Harm sat and watched his loved ones having fun and smiling, though before too long he became too weak to maintain an upright posture so Mark and the boys hurried him up to bed.

Mac situated him, "What do you need to be comfortable?" she asked.

"Picture," he whispered, so softly she almost didn't hear him.

"I'll send Mark up with it," she replied. She needed time to herself just then.

**December 25, 2044  
0610 ZULU**

"It was probably his favorite time of year," sighed Mac, her mind beginning to wander back.

"I know it was," Mark sighed. "Even in his pain last year, he managed to sit up in his chair long enough to watch the kids open their gifts..." Mark shook his head and fought a sob of his own. "I wish I could be more like him."

She touched his knee softly. "You're so much like him, Mark. The way you love, it's just like him. Don't forget that."

"Am I doing it right, Mom?" he asked, two tears escaping his eyes. "Am I making him proud?"

Mac could only nod at first, too overcome with emotion to speak. "Oh my yes" she finally whispered. "He's as proud of you now as ever, I promise."

"You know," Mark said. "He and I talked a good while that day. Did I tell you that?" he asked.

"No," Mac shook her head. "What about?"

**December 25, 2043  
1504 ZULU**

As Mark turned to leave his father for his nap after bringing him his family portrait and setting it so he could see it without having to strain, Harm called to him with what little voice he could muster at that point. "Son?"

"Yes, Dad," Mark said moving near his father's bedside.

"Take care of her," said Harm. "Promise?"

"Of who? Of Mom?" Mark asked to clarify.

Harm replied with a barely detectible nod. "Yours now. All of it."

"No, Daddy," Mark shook his head. "No. I can't."

"Mark," he said gently. "I'm...done. All yours now."

"Dad, I can't do it like you can," Mark said fighting tears.

He knew this was his father's last Christmas, perhaps his last day with them.

Harm reached out from beneath his special blanket to touch Mark's hand. "Do it...like you can. You set the tone, you show them how. I'll always be here, just think of me and you'll know," he wheezed.

Mark nodded, he knew this is what his father needed, "I'll take good care of her. Of all of them. I promise," Mark whispered through tears.

Harm smiled. "I know. I...love you, son."

"I love you too, Dad," Mark replied as he leaned over to kiss Harm's cheek. He wasn't sure if he heard him, he was all ready asleep.

**December 25, 2044  
0618 ZULU**

"I'm sorry about last year," Mark apologized for what had to be the millionth time. "I tried you know?"

"I know, sweetheart," she said. "I know how hard it was on you, on all of you kids."

"I should have been there for you," Mark sighed. "Dad wouldn't have left."

"Don't beat yourself up," she said. "It's okay. It's what Dad wanted."

"I wish though I'd been there, with him, with you...I feel like I missed something really special," Mark sighed and eased Mac against him noticing her shiver.

"It was special, yes" she said, her minds eye reliving that day...

**December 26, 2043  
0343 ZULU**

"Harm?" she said softly as he slowly opened his eyes, in spite of the fact it was nearing midnight on Christmas Day. "Harm, Sweetie?"

"Hmm...?" he answered his speech not fully awake yet.

"Hi," she smiled. "You want some water?"

"No," he gasped out.

"Are you sure?" Mac asked. "You haven't had anything to drink most all day. Isn't your mouth dry?"

"No," he said again. "Don't want it."

Mac sighed, the doctor told her this would happen at the end, and she could feel that it was near. Instead she reached for a moist towel and ran the edges over his lips, "There now." She smiled. "How do you feel?"

"Like I'm dying," he answered honestly, a little grin on his pale face.

She squeezed the cold hand she held, "You are dying," she said softly. "Any pain? Can I do anything?"

"You can kiss me," he said, his deep blue eyes sparkling a bit less than they once did, but the devotion and love was still very much present.

Mac let go of his hand, and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. She ran a hand down his tired face caressing his cheek and leaned over him, placing her lips to his cool bluish tinged one. "How's that?" she asked, moving her hand to his chest as it fought to keep him breathing and rubbing in soft circles.

"Like always," he sighed.

Mac smiled, and started to cry,

"I'm going to miss you so much. I don't know if I can go on without you."

He looked intently into her eyes. "Promise me you will, Mac. Promise me."

"I can promise I'll try," she replied. "Why couldn't...Why couldn't it be me?"

"No!" he said, with more power than anything he'd mustered in weeks. "Don't say that, no! Me, it has to be me."

"Why?" she sobbed, not caring about being strong when her husband of 40 years was dying before her eyes.

"It just does," he replied, his strength again fading fast. "Some things just...are."

Mac nodded and wiped her tears, "You rest now. It's okay."

He shook his head a little, as much as he could. "No, not okay. You're sad."

"That's okay," Mac smiled. "It's okay for me to be sad. But you're in pain, aren't you?"

"Seeing you hurt," he said, pausing for a breath. "Gives me pain."

Mac tried to bite back the tears and instead focused on softly rubbing his chest trying to ease the ache she knew was there. He fell silent and watched her work.

"What day is it?" he asked. "I don't feel good."

"It's Christmas Day night," Mac replied. "Why don't you rest?"

"No good," he muttered. "Don't feel good."

"I know you don't," Mac soothed. "And it's okay to rest. I'll be okay, the kids will be fine, it's okay, Harm. It's okay. Just rest. Just let go and rest."

"What time is it?" he asked breathily.

"Its 11:21," Mac replied. "You said you don't feel well?"

"What day is it?" he asked again, seeming to lose a bit of his fight to stay awake.

"It's Christmas Day," Mac replied softly. "Its 23:21 on Christmas Day. You look tired."

"Am tired," he gasped. "Can't rest. Head hurts."

"Can I help?" Mac asked him all ready moving her hand to his head and soothing the forehead and temples with her fingers.

"Hurts," he said, closing his eyes and the forcing them open again.

"Ssh," Mac soothed. "Ssh, I'm right here. I love you and I'm right here. It's okay now. You rest. Go to sleep, let go, and rest. Go on, it's okay," she repeated as she soothed his tortured body with soft touches.

"Time is it?" he mumbled.

"23:43," Mac replied. "Why does that matter?" she asked. "Are you waiting for something or someone? I can get them for you."

"Dad," he mumbled, barely audible.

"You're waiting for you Dad?" Mac asked. "Would you like me to get you his picture?" She moved her hands to his arms and continued her massage.

He was quiet now, all his strength tapped for the time being, his breathing shallow. He felt her hands, and he wanted to remember that feeling.

Mac kept it up, alternating with soft murmurs that she and their children were all just fine and this it was fine for him to rest now, that they'd all be all right. Still he fought on.

"So tired..." he whispered several moments later.

"Ssh," Mac soothed. "Go to sleep. I won't leave you. You're okay, it's all okay. Let go now...Go see your Dad."

He drew in a few labored breaths. "Time is...it?"

"Its 0002," Mac replied. "Christmas is over."

"Missed...it," he said, his voice almost inaudible.

"Missed what?" she asked still soothing his chest with her hands.

"Ch...Christmas" he answered.

"No, no," she soothed. "You were there. Remember? You sat in your wheelchair and opened gifts with us. Remember?"

He shook his head. "Promise..." he gasped out. "Broke...it. So...Sorry..."

"I was the one who made you promise," she told him. "That means I can free you from it. Now all I want is for you to sleep. It's okay. We'll be okay."

He opened his eyes and looked into hers as a single teardrop rolled down his cheek. "Love...you...forever."

"I'll love you forever," she replied and leaned down to kiss his parted lips.

"Till...forever," he whispered, letting his eyes close.

With those last words, Harm's breathing slowed, and quieted, then finally, and mercifully stopped. Mac sat with him alone until morning, when Mark found her, holding his father's body close, all she had to say to him was "He's gone."

**December 25, 2044  
0655 ZULU**

"I'll never forget the look on your face," she said to her son.

"I'll never forget how peaceful he looked," Mark sighed. "After nearly a year of being sick and bedridden and in pain, he was so free." Mark put his arm around Mac's shoulders as she shivered and eased her against him. Wearily she laid her head on his chest.

"I'm tired," she said softly.

"You want to go back up to bed?" Mark asked. "Do you need help? Legs hurting?"

"No," she said. "I'm fine here...right here."

Mark tightened his embrace around his mother's shoulders, "I love you, Mom."

"I love you, sweetheart," she said as she closed her eyes.

Mark closed his eyes as he held his mother close to him, healing her pain, as his father would have done had he been alive.

**December 25, 2044  
0927 ZULU**

Mark didn't wake again until he felt Mac's body shutter in his grasp. She lay nestled against her eldest son, a smile on her face. She'd passed peacefully in her sleep, the way she'd always hoped everyone close to her could go.

Mark sat in the dark in silence, occasionally feeling a tear drip down his cheek. Soft footsteps and a gentle hand brought him around, "Mark, Sweetheart?" Jenna asked. "Come up to bed."

He looked up at his wife with a heartbroken smile. "She's with dad."

Jenna sat down beside him, "She's gone?" she asked, not really believing it. She seemed to be sleeping.

Mark broke down and began to sob, his arms still around his mother. He'd missed his father's last moments, but he was with his mother for hers, and he'd never forget that.

"Harm," Mac said as they watched their eldest son be comforted by his wife's soothing touch. "He's so sad."

Harm held her close. "He misses you already. He'll be okay though, they all will."

"He's our baby and he needs us," Mac sighed. "I...can't. I have to hold him. We always held them when they cried."

Harm smiled the same smile he'd worn for all his life on earth. "We still can."

Mac nodded and smiled, taking his hand. Mark lay against his wife's chest feeling her arms around him. As he cried for his mother and his father, though he felt a burst of love, of the love only parents can give. He felt his father's tenacity and his mother's grace, his father's determination and his mother's quiet strength, his father's wisdom and his mother's passion, all flowing through him, living again in him. In that minute he knew he could do it, that he wasn't going to have to carry the family Rabb alone, the patriarch and matriarch still lived, inside him. He pulled away from Jenna, and met her eyes, wet also with tears, "We'll be all right now. It's all going to be all right." And for Rabbs everywhere, on earth or in heaven above, that's just what life was, all right.

A/N: We held off on posting this given the sensative content, but for us Christmas is not only a time for love and sharing, but a time to remember and reflect on the loved ones that have passed on. This is dedicated in loving memory of all those we have loved that have gone to the angels. We thank you for reading and we will be back to our regular stories in a few days. Happy New Year!


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